


Darkness Eyes

by ParadiseAvenger



Category: Shugo Chara!
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 17:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseAvenger/pseuds/ParadiseAvenger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ikuto's heart desperately tries to override the Death Rebel transformation and Kazuomi's commands, but he still can't protect Amu from himself. Rape. AmuXIkuto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tuning Fork

Please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

…

I got the idea for this while I was watching some of the Death Rebel episodes. If Shugo Chara wasn’t such a kiddy anime, I could see that arc being so epic and awesome! (Compared to the rest of the lame show, it already is, but anywho…) And then the radio very nicely played DBSK’s song, “Darkness Eyes” and voila! 

This is what we get!

And Makimono-kun drew some EPIC FANART that can be found here, just remove spaces and *: h*t*t*p*://makimono-kun. deviantart. c*o*m*/art/S-T-A-N-D-S-T-I-L-L-355489106

X X X

Hinamori Amu rolled over in her bed, burying her face in the pillow. Crushingly, the fabric still smelled of Ikuto’s hair and fresh tears burned in her eyes. He had been so close to her, sharing her bed and her space, standing right there in the shower naked while she changed her clothes on the other side of the glass. He had been so close, but she had never… She sniffled, clutching the pillow closer to her chest, wishing it was his lithe catlike body. What she wouldn’t have given just to embrace him, to hold him, to comfort him…

The first time Amu saw Death Rebel, a part of her heart broke for Ikuto. Why hadn’t she realized what was happening to him? Why hadn’t she realized that Easter was torturing him, using him, destroying him? He was living in her bedroom when the transformations first began. She should have realized! He had been returning to her room battered and injured, unable to remember where the injuries had come from. What was happening was so glaringly obvious, but she hadn’t… realized… She hadn’t been able to help him. She hadn’t been able to protect him.

The trauma and darkness in his heart was used to break him apart at the seams. His secrets, his pain and suffering, his past, his fears and regrets—all the things that hurt him in his life were cruelly pulled to the surface to envelope him all at once. Even his precious violin, left to him by his father, could no longer help him. In fact, the violin was another tool in the destruction of his heart and soul. Then, his pain was only amplified by the dark energy of the X-Eggs. Thus, from his broken spirit, Death Rebel was brutally born.

Seeing his beautiful sapphire eyes so dark and dead, expressionless, his pale face as smooth as a porcelain statue, broke her heart. The only emotion Death Rebel’s cruel possession allowed him to show was pain, agony, and hurt as he struggled against the transformation. Then, the tuning fork made that sound like a cry and Ikuto lost what remained of his heart to the darkness. When he had attacked Amu and Tadase, destroying his precious memories without a care, Amu hadn’t even seen a glimpse of the Ikuto she knew beneath that anguished mask. He wasn’t even trying to fight anymore.

Inside Death Rebel, Tsukiyomi Ikuto was dying.

His heart was being tortured and broken, shattered but still forced to beat.

Death Rebel was slowly and painfully killing him.

Amu choked back a sob, not wanting to wake her guardian characters. It didn’t help that Ikuto’s sweet kitten, Yoru, was sleeping only a short distance away in the basket with the others. Amu tried so hard to put up a brave face for Yoru day in and day out, trying to assure the little creature that Ikuto was going to be alright. If he heard her crying in the night, he would know just how worried she was for Ikuto and he would go out into the darkness again, searching in vain for his lost owner. She didn’t want that to happen to Yoru and she didn’t want more to worry about.

She bit her pillow, stifling the sounds that tried to escape her. What was it about the night that made her emotions come pouring out? She just couldn’t hold them back, no matter how hard she tried, not once the darkness fell outside the glass. The night was her weakness and also the time she felt as if she could show weakness. The night was… The night reminded her of Ikuto. Night was when he appeared on her balcony, when he came skulking in and sneaked into her bed, when he teased her, when he offered her compensation or the bad things he did during the day. Night was…

Amu sobbed helplessly, her voice ragged. She couldn’t hold it back. Desperately, she buried her face in her pillow, crying helplessly. Sobs tore from her throat, muffled thankfully by the pillow. Her small body shook with the force of her cries, trembling and shaking, her teeth chattering. 

Then, she became aware that someone was gently stroking her rosette hair and her cheek. Her first thought was of Ikuto. Eagerly, she sat up, his name caught on her lips, but his tall thin body wasn’t sitting on the side of her mattress. Her room was empty of him save his small little guardian, Yoru. The small creature was perched on Amu’s shoulder, stroking her hair with his little paws. When she sat up, he saw the tears on her face and faltered.

“Amu, nya,” Yoru whispered.

Amu cradled him in her hands, stroking his fur with her fingertips. She was unable to speak, her words caught behind the flood of tears pouring out. Yoru snuggled into her hands, lost, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness as he stared desperately up at her.

“Amu, nya,” he said again, gently, soothingly.

Fresh tears welled in Amu’s eyes. Even now, when Yoru had lost so much more than she had, he was trying to comfort her. He was so much like Ikuto in that moment—sacrificing so much for her, protecting her even if he’d be punished later, helping her even when he shouldn’t have. Now, Yoru floated up to her cheek and snuggled into her throat, his small paws pressing at her pulse as if to assure himself that she was alive. Amu cupped her hands over him, dipping her chin to nestle into his warm fur.

“You should sleep, Amu,” Yoru whispered. “It’s late, nya.”

“I know, but… I can’t,” she confessed.

Yoru was quiet, his little body trembling. Then, he spoke the words Amu didn’t want to hear. “Do you think… Ikuto is alright, nya?”

“I hope so,” she whispered, her eyes filling anew. 

What if he didn’t even have a bed where he was? What if he was sleeping on cold concrete, naked and beaten? What if he was starving? What if he was bleeding? What if he was… crying?

As if sensing her depressing thoughts, Yoru pushed against her cheek until she lay back down against the pillows. Then, he snuggled under her chin and began to purr. Amu found her eyes drooping, the warmth of his little body seeping into her and the purring was so soothing. She wondered if he slept like this with Ikuto. He must have because Ikuto was always so alone, with only Yoru at his side. Now, even Yoru was apart from him. How lonely was he? Tears rolled down Amu’s cheeks and she cuddled Yoru closer.

The kitten continued purring and Amu cried in silence. She wasn’t sure when she managed to fall asleep, but she was suddenly waking up to bright sunlight and a new day. Yoru was still snuggled against her, breathing softly against her throat. Her own guardians were still asleep in their eggs. For that she was grateful because she didn’t want them to see as she lifted Yoru in her hands and pressed her lips to the top of his head. She didn’t want them to see that she was thinking of Ikuto as she did it.

Since it was morning and no longer night, she swallowed her tears.

…

In hindsight, when Amu heard the first notes of the broken violin, she should have called the other Guardians for help. But, the moment Yoru heard the notes, with a shout of Ikuto’s name, the little creature was off. Amu had called after him, her own heart skipping beats at the thought of finding Ikuto, but he didn’t come back to her. In that moment, foolishly, she thought that she would be enough to stop him. Maybe she even thought she was enough to save him, her alone. So, she didn’t call the other Guardians and she raced after Yoru, shouting. In hindsight, she wished she had because then maybe… things wouldn’t have happened the way that they had.

But she hadn’t called the Guardians. No one even knew where she was, no one even knew she had gone after Ikuto, no one ever knew except the people there that day. In a way, in hindsight, she was happy that she and Ikuto were alone in what happened between them. It would have been so much harder on Ikuto’s already-battered heart if there had been witnesses to his greatest crime. But, she couldn’t help wondering if things would have gone different had Tadase or Nagihiko been there to help her. Honestly, though, she had been trying to let those thoughts go because it was in the past and nothing would change what happened.

It was the park where Amu had first heard Ikuto playing the violin on a moonlit night, his face like a ghost. Now, Death Rebel stood beneath that gazebo, playing the violin in a painful twisted way, his body swaying as if he was ill. All around him, X-Eggs swirled and danced, multiplying, growing larger with each note.

“Ikuto!” Amu shouted, joining Yoru at the base of the steps, gazing up at him. “Ikuto!”

It was as if he didn’t even hear her voice nor did he see her. His eyes were like blue glass, blank and expressionless save a distant sort of agony seeping through the veil. His long fingers danced across the strings, the bow sliding back and forth smoothly, but the music he played seemed somehow ragged as if he was sobbing.

“Ikuto, nya!” Yoru shouted and flew immediately to his owner’s side.

Ikuto didn’t see or hear Yoru either. All he heard was the sound of that godforsaken tuning fork and all he saw was his step-father’s wretched face. His friends had been taken from his sight, even his guardian had been taken from his heart. He was alone, trapped within that forced transformation, lost within the darkness.

Amu turned to her small guardians and said, “Ran.”

“Y-yeah,” the little pink cheerleader said, nodding her head. 

Then, Amu felt the familiar connection spread between them like a braided silken rope. The heavy but beautiful lock hanging around her neck blazed to life, beating with a heart of its own. She also felt the lock reach out for the key, the key Ikuto carried. Whenever the Dumpty Key and Humpty Lock, Amu and Ikuto, were close together, the two parts wanted to join—to become a whole. But Ikuto was in no condition to turn the key within her lock. Amu was alone in her heart.

The transformation between her and Ran was sudden, almost jarring. She found herself suddenly standing there, feeling the cool breeze on her bare thighs and belly. A small shiver ran through her, but she pushed it away. All mattered right now was if she could somehow reach Ikuto, somehow bring him back to her.

“Ikuto!” she called, Amulet Heart lending strength to her voice. 

A sort of light came into his blue glass eyes and, for one swift moment, he seemed to be looking right at her. His chapped lips parted slightly as if to speak her name, but no sound escaped him. Then, the moment passed and Death Rebel continued to play.

Then, she saw him. She had been so focused on Ikuto that she hadn’t even noticed that his step-father was seated on the bench beneath the gazebo a few feet away. He was smirking cruelly, holding that gleaming tuning fork in his hands, and watching. “If it isn’t the bratty little girl,” he hissed out. Then, he lifted the tuning fork and struck it hard on the side of the bench, the terrible sound ringing like a cry through the park.

Ikuto crumpled, his hand pressing to his head tightly. Then, he straightened himself, his face as smooth and blank as someone who was already dead only there was no peace in his expression. He was trapped in a living hell, unable to live but unable to die. 

“Ikuto!” Amu shouted.

Kazuomi grinned. “Why don’t you kill her, Ikuto?” He struck the tuning fork again.

Ikuto raised the violin above his head, the shape melting and shifting, transforming. Then, he held the scythe in his hands, the hideous weapon gleaming in the afternoon light. The scythe was as big as Ikuto, casting a long shadow as if he was going to cleave his own body in half. He staggered towards her a step, the scythe seeming to drag him down.

“Ikuto,” Amu whispered, backing away a few steps. Miki and Suu were bottled up against her back, clinging to the long red ribbons of her Amulet Heart transformation. “Wait, you don’t want to hurt me,” she pleaded.

“Ikuto, nya!” Yoru shouted and launched himself at his owner, clinging to the strands of silken blue-black hair framing Ikuto’s face. “Stop, Ikuto! Don’t do it! Stop listening to him, nya!”

Ikuto hesitated, his chalk-pale face clearing a moment. Some light came into his eyes, some expression. “A… Amu…?” he whispered.

Tears welled in her eyes and she stepped towards him. “Yeah,” she murmured, holding out her hands to him. “Ikuto, it’s okay. Fight him.”

Kazuomi smirked. “You think your voice can reach him, girl?” He struck the tuning fork again, the sound screaming through Amu’s head and Ikuto’s heart.

Ikuto doubled over, his hand pressed to his mouth as if he was going to be sick. He hit his knees, the scythe clattering on the concrete. He dug his free hand through his hair as if trying to hold his skull together. A ragged cry escaped him, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his teeth gouging into his lower lip.

Without a care, Kazuomi struck the fork again. “Kill her.”

Amu glared at him. “You’re a monster!” she screamed at him. “Why are you doing this to him?”

Kazuomi didn’t dignify her with an answer. He struck the fork once, twice, three times. “Kill her. That’s an order, Tsukiyomi Ikuto.”

Ikuto lurched to his feet as if he was a puppet on strings, grasping the scythe once again. He walked towards Amu, down each step smoothly and easily. His face was so cold, so blank, expressionless. His heart was caged and she couldn’t reach him.

“Amu, nya,” Yoru shouted, his little face stricken with panic. “The tuning fork! Let’s get it!”

Amu nodded, her head jerking down, and she summoned the Heart Rod desperately to her hand. Without the patience to cry out the name of her attack, she flung the rod at Kazuomi. It struck his hand and the fork clattered to the ground, sending out more horrible ringing cries.

Ikuto screamed out, his voice raw and ragged. 

Yoru was at his side in an instant. “Ikuto! Ikuto, nya!”

Amu leaped to catch the Heart Rod as it flew back to her. “Miki! Suu! Get the tuning fork!”

The two guardian characters raced towards the fork, streaking towards it. Yoru joined them, seeing that there was nothing he could do for Ikuto right now. Together, the three grabbed it and Kazuomi, who wasn’t able to see them, was stunned to see the fork lifting from the ground. Within an instant, the three had brought the tuning fork to Amu and deposited it into her hands. She clutched it to her chest, praying this would be enough to break Kazuomi’s grip on Ikuto. Kazuomi wondered, too. Together, they both watched.

Ikuto was crumpled at the foot of the stairs, gasping for breath. He was doubled over, clearly in great pain as his heart warred with the forced transformation. For a moment, it seemed he was going to be able to pull through, but Kazuomi only needed the fork to control him completely. 

Bitterly, Kazuomi snarled, “Kill her. I gave you an order.”

The words shot through Ikuto like a wound, his cat ears flattening against his head. “N-n-no,” he choked out. “Pl-please… s-st-stop t-t-t-this…”

Amu’s eyes filled with tears. “Ikuto,” she whispered.

“Fucking kill her!” Kazuomi shouted, his voice as loud and painful as the sound of the tuning fork. 

Amu watched, her heart breaking for him, as Ikuto raked his nails into his palms, dug his teeth into his lower lip, gouged his fingers into the injury she knew Tadase had left in his shoulder as if the pain could help him keep control. He was on his knees, blood splattering on the concrete, his blue eyes red-rimmed with agony. “St-stop,” he pleaded. “N-n-n-no.”

Kazuomi grinned cruelly. “She’s a nuisance, always purifying the eggs and getting in the way,” he hissed. “And she hides you from me, Ikuto. If you weren’t her friend, she could live. It’s your own fault so put her out of her misery. She’s only suffering because of you.”

“Shut up!” Amu shouted at the man, tears rolling down her face. “Shut up! You’re a liar!”

Kazuomi grinned wider. “Do it, Ikuto. Do it.”

“I-I-I c-c-can’t-t,” he choked out, desperately fisting his hand in his shirt. “S-st-stop!”

“Kill. The. Bitch.”

Those words seemed to tear into him, each one prying s harsh sound from Ikuto’s throat. “I can’t,” he whispered, teeth gouging into his lower lip so that blood ran down his chin. “I-I-I-I love h-her…”

The moment of confession that should have made Amu blush and stutter, caught between her love for Tadase and her care for Ikuto, was ruined by Kazuomi’s harsh words, by Death Rebel, by the whole situation. But it was only going to get worse. 

“Then break her,” Kazuomi snarled.

For one desperate moment, Ikuto stared at Amu. Tears had gathered in the corners of his sapphire eyes, blood painted his chapped lips, and his face was like chalk, bloodless and pale. “A-A-Amu,” he gasped out. He seemed to want to say something else, but then he doubled over, a ragged cry escaping his mouth. Then, his body turned into a pile of rags and he collapsed. The scythe smashed down inches from his fingers.

“Ikuto!” Amu rushed to his side, the tuning fork sliding from her hands and clattering noisily on the concrete. 

At the sound of the tuning fork, Ikuto was yanked to his feet. His hands closed on Amu’s bare shoulders, fingers digging into her painfully.

“I-Ikuto,” she whispered, her cry echoed by Yoru’s.

Still gripping her thin shoulder with one hand, Ikuto bent slowly, his fingers trembling, to pick up the scythe. Once he had gripped it in his hand, he pressed the cold metal to the bare flesh beneath her throat and above her breasts. The sharp edge cut into her, a few drops of blood rolling from the paper-thin wound. But, as Ikuto fought against the control, his body shaking, the wound grew deeper and more jagged, spreading across her chest. 

Amu closed her eyes, unable to fight him. She couldn’t fight him like this, not when he was already trying so hard not to hurt her, not when he was under his step-father’s control. The full length of the scythe’s blade sliced across her small body from collarbone to hip, tearing the thin girly fabric of Amulet Heart’s top. The fabric slipped open, exposing her small chest, but Amu didn’t move to cover herself. Ikuto’s eyes were blind to her presence anyway and his slender body blocked the view of her nudity from Kazuomi.

“Ikuto,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. You don’t want to hurt me.”

A soft cry escaped him, his fingers digging deeper into her shoulder, the scythe drilled deeper into her naked chest. It felt as if he was trying to burrow into her body, into her heart. At Amu’s back, Yoru and Miki and Suu waited to see what would happened between them. 

From the bench, Kazuomi rose and circled them. If Kazuomi got the tuning fork… Amu closed her eyes, fighting back tears. There was nothing she could do to stop him. She couldn’t pull away from Ikuto while he was fighting back Death Rebel. But the others…

“Guys, the fork,” Amu whispered, wincing as her voice made Ikuto flinch.

Immediately, the three raced to the tuning fork and grabbed it, heaving it off the ground. To Kazuomi, it seemed as if a ghost was coming to the girl’s aid, maybe the ghost of Ikuto’s shattered heart, and he was still surprised by the sight, but not surprised enough. This time, rather than being stunned, he grabbed the fork from the invisible helpers and held onto it tightly, just in case they had the power to take it back from him.

Amu sobbed, seeing it in Kazuomi’s hand. “Ikuto,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Ikuto, nya,” Yoru whispered, his eyes on his owner.

“Break her,” Kazuomi said again, growing impatient with this charade.

Ikuto dug harder into Amu’s body, as if clutching her. Crimson blood seeped into the waistband of her pink pleated skirt, tears rolled down her pale face, and the cold air prickled her naked flesh, but still… She hurt more for Ikuto than she did for herself. 

“Break. That. Bitch.” Kazuomi snarled and struck the tuning fork. 

With that, Ikuto was lost, but he didn’t kill her. For that reason alone, Amu knew some remnants of Ikuto’s heart remained underneath the façade of Death Rebel—even under such a strong control. He didn’t kill her, but… as Kazuomi had ordered, he broke her.

Her top had already been cut open, hanging off her thin bruised shoulders, and it was a simple matter for the tip of the scythe to tear into the waistband of her skirt. The cold blade cut through her pleated skirt, shredding the side of her panties so they slipped down her legs partially. She sobbed, pushing on Ikuto’s chest, but she couldn’t fight him and he was too strong to just push away. When he pushed her naked body against the cold ground, the concrete cutting into her back, Amu knew she had to do something to stop him. If he did this to her, even under Death Rebel’s control… he would never forgive himself. But, she didn’t want to hurt him.

“Ikuto, nya! Stop!” Yoru shrieked suddenly and hurled his little body at Ikuto’s face and neck, battering him relentlessly. “Don’t do it, nya!”

“Stop, Ikuto-kun,” Suu pleaded, joining the barrage.

“Don’t hurt Amu-chan!” Miki shouted, bashing herself into Ikuto as well.

But he batted them away like flies, their small bodies crashing into the concrete like Amu’s had. Desperately, Amu summoned a Heart Rod and swung it at his head, her eyes squeezed shut so she wouldn’t have to see herself hurt him. But his hand closed around it and pulled her small weapon away. Then, taking the long ribbons tied around Amulet Heart’s neck, he bound her wrists together and she was completely helpless. A few feet away, the guardian characters lay like dolls.

Amu sobbed, “Ikuto, you don’t want to hurt me.”

But her voice didn’t reach him. 

She pushed against his narrow chest, her fingers fisting in the blood-colored feathers around his throat, pulling them out. The feathers fluttered down around her and she felt as if she was tearing the wings from an angel, the wings from a butterfly, destroying something beautiful that was meant to be free and fly. She cried—for him, for Yoru, for her, for everything. Pinning her body with one strong hand, he really did break her. The sad part was… he didn’t even take her virginity himself. 

He used the Heart Rod.

The moment she felt that cold harness against her core, she clenched her teeth and tipped her head back, tears rolling down her cheeks. Then, he pushed it inside her, the cold heart-shaped top stretching and breaking her small body. Though she didn’t want to, she screamed. For a moment, she thought she saw the light return to Ikuto’s eyes, thought she saw him fighting desperately, but it lasted such a short moment she must have imagined it. 

Her body jerked and jolted, throbbing as she was torn up from the inside by her own weapon. The cold heart pounded against her womb, raked against her insides, and there was no pleasure in it for her. The only thing she took comfort in was Ikuto’s fragile body shielding her nudity from Kazuomi’s field of view. At least that awful man couldn’t see her being raped. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Ikuto’s back, pulling him close and embracing him even as he used Heart Rod to violate her. 

She didn’t even know when it was going to end. The pain was so much, so great, and it was a pain she had never felt before—so deep inside that she felt as if it would never heal. She sobbed quietly, clutching him tightly, her fingers continuing to pull out a rain of dark feathers. Then, it was all too much for Ran and the transformation of Amulet Heart to withstand. Ran was flung away from Amu, her small body landing with the others, and Amu was wearing her street clothes.

Puzzled, Ikuto stilled, his hand empty of the Heart Rod and her body no longer naked beneath him. He reached for the scythe and Amu was helpless to stop him as he calmly cut her clothes from her body once again. Naked, lying in a nest of shredded clothes, Amu stared up at him, tears glittering in her eyes. He had already raped her, but Death Rebel wasn’t about to stop… not until Kazuomi stopped the control and laid aside the tuning fork.

Amu glanced at the man, sitting there on the bench observing as if he was watching a television show, even smiling faintly. Ikuto fumbled, the chain wrapped around his body jingling and laying cold across her breasts. She shuddered as he freed himself from the confines of his pants but she was relieved to see that he wasn’t hard. Ikuto hadn’t gotten hard raping her, but… Kazuomi struck the fork and he began to touch himself, hardening.

She closed her eyes, fighting back tears. Then, she felt the heat of him between her legs, slowly pushing into her damaged body. The Heart Rod had already stretched and injured her so he fit inside easily and began to move. She whimpered, sobbing, as he took her. Then, blackness came to take her away and the last thing she remembered seeing was Kazuomi’s face looming over Ikuto’s back. He was grinning—the sick bastard—and Amu felt Ikuto shudder within her. Heat filled her. 

Then, there was nothing but darkness.

…

Amu woke to a wet drop landing on her face and forced her eyes open in time to receive another. Her first thought was… tears. Was Ikuto here with her, crying for what he had done? But the droplets were cold, icy-cold. For a moment, she stared at the blanket of grey clouds, uncomprehending. Then, another drop and another landed on her face. Then, it poured all around her.

Heaven was crying.

She lifted her hands, cupping them together. “Rain,” she whispered.

Then, Amu sat up, wincing at the tearing pain deep inside. She was naked, lying there in a shredded mess of her clothing and the feathers she had pulled from Ikuto’s jacket. The jagged slash left behind by Death Rebel’s Death Scythe from collarbone to shoulder was so bloody, still bleeding sluggishly. The rain slowly washed the blood from the surface of her body, but deep inside, something still bled.

Whimpering, she dragged herself to her knees and crawled the few feet away where her guardian characters and Yoru were lying. She gathered the four of them up in her arms, relishing the heat of their small bodies as tears rolled down her cheeks. The rain and her tears roused all except Ran. Ran was deeply unconscious with the effort of trying to sustain Amulet Heart while Ikuto was raping Amu.

“Amu, nya,” Yoru whispered, his ears drooping down.

“I know it wasn’t… Ikuto’s fault,” Amu whispered, petting his head.

No one had anything to say to that. 

“Miki,” she whispered. “I need you to Character Change with me. I need… clothes.”

The artist nodded, stretching out her heart to connect with Amu’s. The transformation complete, Amu felt much better to be wearing long sleeves and shorts with stockings. Hardly any bare skin was left exposed. She got to her feet, grateful that the rain disguised her tears of pain. Slowly, cradling Ran and Yoru to her chest while Suu floated along at Amu’s ear, they made their way back to her house. She brushed past her parents, grabbed pajamas from her bedroom, and locked herself in the bathroom to bathe. 

“Amu, nya,” Yoru murmured, watching as Miki dropped the character transformation. 

Amu’s small fragile body was so… beaten. There was blood staining the inside of her thighs, semen dried there as well. The gash across her chest was so jagged, so painful-looking, and Ikuto’s fingers had left bruises on her shoulders. Not that Yoru was looking, but it didn’t look like her delicate garden had survived the Heart Rod tearing into her. Ikuto’s actual rape probably hadn’t helped either. 

“Amu-chan,” Suu whispered, wishing there was something she could do.

“We’re not…” Amu said suddenly, tuning the water on as hot as she could stand it. “We’re not going to tell Ikuto about this… ever… Alright?” 

Then, she slid into the bath, steam billowing out of the stall shower, and tried to wash away what Death Rebel had done. At least, Ikuto would never know what he had done to her under than control. For once, she was happy he never remembered his violent transformations. He would never find out that he had raped her.

X X X

This should top off at about a three-shot so… until the next chapter!

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	2. The Locked Balcony

Man, these chapters are mad long. 

And I think I lied. I got into the third chapter and I want to write more so make it… a four-shot… Hehe…

X X X

Like a pact made in blood, Amu, Yoru, and the four female guardian characters never told anyone about what Ikuto had done to her while being controlled by Death Rebel. (Suu had once tried to convince Amu to tell Ikuto the truth, but she refused.) 

She maintained the fact that he had been fighting against it the whole time and that was the only reason he had raped her instead of killing her. Some part of his heart, the broken part that loved her, had refused to take her life away, but that love had been twisted and tattered by Death Rebel. As a result he had raped her brutally, first with the Heart Rod and then with his own organ. But she didn’t want him to ever know—she knew it would destroy him.

So, she never told anyone about what had happened.

The rest of the month passed without incident. The Guardians, led by their powerful Joker, Hinamori Amu, went up against Easter head to head. The fight against Death Rebel had been close, Tadase had nearly lost his life, but Amu had put a halt to the rampage. With her new transformation, Amulet Diamond, she had opened her heart to Ikuto and cleansed him of the control completely. Then, with Ikuto’s help, the Guardians of Seiyo Academy had put a stop to Easter, at least for now. Things returned to the way they were, for the most part, at least. 

Only two things really changed… 

Amu started locking her balcony at night where she used to always leave it open. Her heart throbbed at the thought of meeting Ikuto alone in the darkness when no one was there to save her.

And at the end of the month, Amu’s period didn’t come. There was a terrifying thought… what if Ikuto’s rape of her had left her with a child growing inside her small body?

…

Tsukiyomi Ikuto was finally free of Easter, but he still had a bad feeling lurking in his heart. 

Amu had told him all about Death Rebel, about what he had been forced to go through, but there was a moment where she wouldn’t meet his eyes and he had a feeling she wasn’t telling him everything. Then, there were the dreams he had, not that he could call them dreams. They were more like nightmares, disjointed and twisted, snarled together in a knot that he couldn’t make sense of. Whenever he closed his night-dark eyes, he saw flashes of Amu and himself battling, heard her voice screaming his name, saw his own hands doing horrible things, but he didn’t understand. Or maybe, he didn’t want to.

_A sharp blade cutting her pink shirt, exposing her small breasts…_

_Blood welling in the wound, rolling down her pale skin like rose petals…_

_“Please, you don’t want to hurt me.”_

_Her beautiful face streaked with tears…_

_Yoru battering himself against his face, pleading with him…_

_“Don’t do it, nya!”_

_The Heart Rod cold in his hands, being thrust into Amu’s small body…_

_Her hands pulling feathers from his jacket, shedding them like tattered wings…_

_“Ikuto!”_

_Cutting her clothes and plunging into the heat of her…_

_Hearing her scream, feeling her pain, wanting to fight, but…_

The sound of that tuning fork was forever in the background of his nightmares. Ikuto knew that he, as Death Rebel, had done something horrible though he didn’t want to admit that it was what he thought it was. He couldn’t have really… raped Amu, could he? He tried asking Yoru about it, but the little kitten denied all knowledge though his golden eyes slid away just as Amu’s had. Ikuto knew that if he wanted to know what had happened, he would have to ask her and he was going to—tonight!

He could only pray that the truth wasn’t what he suspected it was. He would never have hurt her, right?

…

Taking her four guardian characters with her for emotional support, Amu waited until her parents had gone to sleep and left via her balcony, chara changing with Ran so she wouldn’t break her neck on the way down. At the pharmacy, she bought a pregnancy test with her head bowed in shame. She was only twelve, for god’s sake. Then, she practically ran home, clutching the treacherous package to her chest. There, she chara changed with Ran and leaped her way back onto her balcony, slamming and locking the sliding glass door behind her.

Alone, she barricaded herself in the bathroom and read the instructions. It was simple enough—just pee on the stick and wait three minutes. Then, she would have her answer. Taking a deep breath and praying for negative, she did and exited the bathroom where the others were waiting.

“Amu-chan?” Suu asked gently.

“T-three minutes,” she whispered and set it down on her dresser before going to sit on her bed. Her eyes welled with tears. What if… what if she was pregnant? Not only would her life be changed so drastically at such a young age, but she would have to tell Ikuto… she would have to tell him what he did to her.

Most of all, she didn’t want him to know.

Suddenly, there was a sound on her balcony and her head snapped up, shocked. It was so late, the only person who would be at her balcony this late was… She swallowed nervously. Ikuto was on the other side of the glass, his face slightly perplexed as Yoru floated worriedly beside his head. Though Amu’s heart throbbed with pain and fear at the sight of him, she had to maintain the façade that he had never hurt her. She had to pretend she wasn’t afraid of him. 

So, she quickly got up and let him in, stuttering something along the lines of, “What do you want, Ikuto? It’s late.”

“What’s with the lock?” he asked, ignoring her complaints. 

Her heart skipped a beat. “W-well, you’re always telling me it’s dangerous to leave it unlocked so I…”

He gazed at her, his blue eyes bright with emotion. He looked so much different now, so unlike Death Rebel, and most of her fear melted away. This was Ikuto, after all, free and happy. “When did you start listening to me? Besides, I thought you left it open on purpose.” Unspoken—‘I thought you left it open for me, but now it’s locked. Are you angry at me? Did I do something wrong?’ 

Then, he reached out to gently tuck a strand of rose-colored hair behind her ear and Amu shrunk back from him, a soft whimper escaping. Shocked, Ikuto froze. He was always inside her personal bubble as if they were best friends, creeping into her bed at night, holding her tightly, nipping her earlobe, teasing her, rescuing her when she did something foolish, and not once had she shrank away from his touch. But now, why did her face seem… afraid? His nightmares flashed through his mind again—her naked body pinned beneath his, her crystalline tears, her screams. Ikuto looked stricken.

Amu tried to cover her slip. “Y-you pervert,” she said, but her voice came out weak. “Perverted cosplay cat-eared guy…”

He gently laid his hands on her shoulders. “Amu, is something… wrong?”

Amu glanced at Yoru desperately. Had he told Ikuto?

The little cat shook his head.

She said, “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

He stared at her, unconvinced and troubled by the gesture that had passed between Amu and Yoru. “Amu,” he whispered sternly. 

“Nothing’s wrong, Ikuto,” she told him firmly.

He sighed. “Amu, listen, I have to talk to you.” 

Gingerly, he took her hand and led her to the bed, surprised to feel her hesitating, pulling back against his hand. Why was she holding back? Holding back from him of all people? Usually, she was relieved to have him with her so that she could be herself and no one else. He turned to ask her and that was when he saw it. Sitting innocently on top of the box with a neutral sunrise scene was a pregnancy test. 

“Is that…?” he breathed.

Amu’s eyes widened and she turned to look, her face going pale when she saw that the pregnancy test was lying in plain sight. “Wait—!” she began.

But Ikuto’s long legs had already crossed the room and he picked it up, staring at it. “Negative,” she heard him breathe out and a surge of relief went through her for a moment before the panic returned. Then, he turned to face her, his expression was unreadable. It reminded her of Death Rebel and her blood ran cold. “Amu, what is this?” he asked. “Why is this…?”

“I…” she whispered. “I…” What did she tell him? She had vowed never to tell him what he had done under Death Rebel and Kazuomi’s control. “It’s… I…”

His eyes were so dark, like the night. He whispered, “Did you and Tadase…?”

She shook her head, tears rising unwillingly in her eyes even as she hastily wiped at them.

Ikuto’s heart raced. “Did someone… rape you?”

She bit her lower lip, eyes darting wildly and giving her away.

“Who?” he asked her. He would kill them—no, he would fucking destroy them! Who had dared harm such a sweet girl like Amu, force themselves on her like that? His nightmare—it must have been a premonition because he knew he would never hurt her. He wasn’t even going to tell her his feelings, not before she was older, not until she was no longer a child. He would never have…

Amu was crying harder, suddenly shaking her head.

“Who?” he demanded. “Who hurt you? Who did this? I’ll kill them!”

Her head jerked up, eyes going wide with horror.

Images surged to the surface of Ikuto’s mind, something half-remembered in the depths of his subconscious. Death Rebel—that horrible darkness, that feeling like he couldn’t control anything, and in those half-remembered images he saw blood-red feathers fluttering down on Amu’s naked body. Death Rebel had feathers like that, like the wings he had ripped off of angels. But Ikuto would never have hurt her… would he? The images assaulted him—Yoru’s terrified face, Amu saying, “You don’t want to hurt me,” the sound of the tuning fork.

Ikuto pressed a hand to his head, a moan of pain escaping his mouth. It couldn’t be… He wouldn’t have. He loved her, but… Something was very wrong and he had to know—had to know the truth about what had happened while he was Death Rebel, while Death Rebel had owned and devoured him. “Amu, tell me what happened. I didn’t…” he whispered, “I didn’t do something bad to you… did I?”

Her golden eyes welled with tears, but she started to shake her head.

“Tell me the truth, Amu. If I did something bad to you.” He tried to sound firm, but it came out pleadingly, desperately. 

Silence stretched between them. Suu gathered Ran, Miki, Dia, and ushered them into their eggs. Yoru ducked outside onto the balcony into the night, waiting for whatever would happen now. This was a moment that should only be between Ikuto and Amu. It was their secret, their problem, and no one else should interfere. 

Amu staggered back and sat down heavily on the bed, staring at her hands. She could feel him inside her again, feel the feathers in her hands, feel the pain and the cold Heart Rod, feel the heat of Ikuto filling her with burning pain and agony. She sobbed, pressing a hand to her mouth.

Ikuto came towards her, sitting down beside her on the bed. He didn’t try to touch her, and for that she was grateful. He just sat there, silent and patient and gently trembling, as she tried to gather the courage to tell him the truth. But how did she tell him that he had raped her, not once but twice? And that he had taken her virginity with an object, with her own Heart Rod?

“Amu,” he whispered. “Tell me.” 

Her voice cracked when she spoke the words. “You… while you were Death Rebel, you…” she hesitated. It hadn’t been his fault. Kazuomi had been controlling him. She changed her words. “Kazuomi made you… he forced you to… I could tell you didn’t want to…”

He stared at her, his night-dark eyes distressed. “What did I do to you, Amu?” he breathed.

Tears ran down her face. “You… raped me,” she whispered.

Ikuto froze, his heart literally turning to stone in his chest. He had suspected, but to actually hear it… to know that he was capable of such a thing… He stared at her, through her, past her, unable to breathe. How could he have done that… to the girl he loved? He had raped her. “Then the pregnancy test…?”

“I had to make sure,” she sobbed, hugging herself. 

Suddenly, he whirled on her, grabbing her shoulders tightly. “W-why didn’t you tell me? Why did you keep it a secret?” He thought back to Yoru’s sly pale face. “Yoru knew too! Why did you both keep this from me? God, Amu!”

She sobbed harder. “I… I wanted to protect you.”

He wanted to embrace her, to hold her, to kiss away all her pain. He would die if it would save her from this. He would even have taken her place. But… he just couldn’t. It was too much to hear—to learn that he had raped the girl he loved, not even the girl, the child he loved. Not only that but she had been more concerned for him than for herself. She had been planning on keeping what he had done a secret, until the end of time. He rose from the bed, stumbling away from her.

“Ikuto,” she pleaded. 

He was on the balcony, her words lost to him. He didn’t even chara transform with Yoru. He just threw his legs over and dropped to the ground, landing with a jarring thud. He heard Yoru and Amu calling to him, but he ignored both of them and ran. How much did they both love him? And all he ever did was hurt them. All he ever did was hurt everyone he loved, just like he had hurt Tadase and Utau. 

He ran.

…

A few hours later, Ikuto was slumped beneath the gazebo in the park where he usually played violin, late at night when only the moon was around to hear him. He was completely unaware that only a few feet away from him was the place where he had thrown Amu to the ground and taken her brutally. An alley cat crossed in front of him, green eyes gleaming as it stared at him for a moment. The cat turned, meowed loudly, and then ran off. A moment later, Yoru appeared, panting. 

“Ikuto, nya,” the little creature said.

“You knew what I did to her?” Ikuto said immediately, his voice rough with emotions.

Yoru’s ears drooped. “I was there, nya, when you did it. I tried to stop you, really, I did, nya.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ikuto demanded, harshly.

“Amu asked me not to,” Yoru said. “She said it would break you and she didn’t want you to know, nya.”

Ikuto swallowed thickly. “Why? Why would she do that for me?”

“You told her you loved her,” Yoru whispered, “as Death Rebel, nya.”

Ikuto shuddered. “And you think that’s why…?”

“I was with Amu the whole time we were apart, nya. She cares for you.”

Ikuto put his face in his hands. How could this have happened? What had he done? And now, how did he punish the person who had hurt her so badly when that person had been himself?

“Ikuto, nya,” Yoru whispered, perching on Ikuto’s bent knees. 

Ikuto cupped Yoru in his long-fingered hands. “I want you to tell me everything, Yoru. Everything.”

The kitten swallowed nervously. “But Amu doesn’t want you to know, nya.”

“Yoru,” Ikuto whispered. “I raped her. I fucking raped her. Tell me everything.”

He couldn’t argue with his owner. Besides, Ikuto honestly had a right to know what he had done to the girl he loved. This wasn’t a secret that could be kept forever. Taking a deep breath, Yoru began, “You used the Heart Rod on her first…” And then, he told Ikuto everything—everything.

…

Nearly a week passed without sign of Ikuto. Amu wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or worried or sad. Where was he? What was he doing? Then, exactly one week since she revealed the horrible truth of what he had don’t to her, he appeared on the balcony. She watched him hesitate a moment before gently tapping his long fingers on the glass.

“It’s open,” Amu called to him, trying to pull together a smile.

He slid open the door and stepped inside, his cat ears were pressed so close against his head that she didn’t even see them at first. But then she saw his tail and the ears vanished. Yoru flew over to Amu’s girls and settled in the basket with them, watching with tears gathered in his golden eyes. He looked as if he had been condemned. 

“Amu,” Ikuto whispered.

“Y-yes?” she breathed.

He gently took her hand and pulled her towards the bed, pleased that she didn’t hesitate to follow him this time, but it didn’t change anything. He urged her to sit and then knelt before her. For a moment, he just held her hands, staring into her face until she looked away from him. Then, he took the knife from his pocket, pressed it into her hands, and lifted the sharp blade to his throat. 

“Take my life,” he said to her.

“W-what?” she gasped, trying to pull away. 

He gripped her hands, pulling them closer to his throat until he felt the sharp blade bite into his skin. “No, Amu,” he said gently. 

“W-why?” she begged.

“For what I did to you,” he said gently. “Do it. The skin in thin here. Just… take my life.”

She shook her head desperately, trying to pull away. “Ikuto, stop this.”

He showed her how to press down, feeling blood well beneath the knife’s cold blade. 

“I… I can’t,” she sobbed.

He suddenly opened his eyes and they were so dark—as dark as night. “Why not?”

“Because I…” she bit her lip. “It wasn’t your fault.”

He released her hands, watching as she pulled them desperately away from the knife, but he didn’t lower the knife from his throat. In fact, he pressed it deeper, harder. “If you won’t hate me enough to do it, I will. I’ll take my own life for what I did to you.”

He eyes widened and she grabbed his wrist, pulling the knife back. “No!” she gasped. “Ikuto, please… don’t do this…”

“Why?” he whispered. “Why do your care for me? I’ve…”

She sobbed and he didn’t say it yet.

“What does it matter if I die?” he asked her softly.

She sobbed harder, her fingers trembling where they gripped his wrist.

He whispered, “I raped you. You should want me dead. You should want me punished. You should want me thrown in prison so the same thing can be done to me.” Unspoken—‘But you didn’t do any of those things. You were going to take this secret to the grave. You weren’t even going to tell me what I did to you.’

“He wanted you to kill me, but you didn’t. I know you love me and I lived and… and…” she sobbed, clutching the knife. “Please, Ikuto.”

He let her take the blade from him and gently ran his fingers over her knees, looking down. Her knees… they were scarred, but not from him, from childhood and falling and living and having fun. Even so, he wondered if the scars he left on her would remain forever, like these happy childhood scars.

The moment he released the blade, she laid the knife aside and sat there on her bed, trembling. 

Then, his voice was like a blade. “Amu…” he whispered. “I took your virginity with an object. Then, I raped you.” He hooked his fingers in her shirt, pulling it down slightly to reveal the scar that bisected her chest. “I hurt you. I cut you. Why are you…?”

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, sobbing his name. “It wasn’t your fault, Ikuto.”

He was stunned, frozen in her embrace.

He felt her lips at the injury on his throat, gently kissing the thin cuts.

Ikuto pulled her against his chest, hugging her tightly. “Amu, this is…”

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, sobbing into his shirt. For a long time, he just held her, stroking her back and soothing her. After everything she had been through, it was the least he could do—just hold her while she finally allowed herself to break down and cry. It was night after all and she was wrapped tightly in his comforting embrace, snuggling against his chest. Then, finally, she was all cried out, shaking with dry sobs. He continued to hold her gently, gingerly, like she was something fragile and unspeakably precious. Her tears dried and she felt better having let it all out.

“Ikuto,” she whispered, pushing back to look into his pale face. “Ikuto?”

“L-let me see,” he whispered suddenly.

“What?” she breathed. 

“I left marks on you, didn’t I? Let me see them,” he whispered, his voice broken and soft. 

With trembling hands, she unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall open, revealing the scar that cross her chest from collarbone to hip where he had pressed his scythe into her and then cut her clothes away. His fingers shaking, Ikuto reached out and gently traced the slanted path. She shivered as his warm fingers trailed between the valley of her breasts and across her stomach. Why did she feel so cold? Or was he just that warm? His fingers felt like kisses, soft and gentle, loving.

And why wasn’t she afraid? She had so easily opened her shirt and exposed herself to him. She knew girls who had been raped were supposed to be afraid of all males, even fathers and brothers, yet here was Amu, sitting alone on the bed with the man who had raped her. And she wasn’t even frightened. She knew he had never wanted to hurt her and would never do so again. He loved and treasured her, did everything he could to protect her, and she knew he had been fighting the whole time. Maybe that was it. 

Or maybe the truth of the matter was… Ikuto had been hurt just as much by what had happened between them and Death Rebel. If not more. Amu couldn’t imagine how he felt right now—still healing from the pain of the forced transformation of Death Rebel and being used like a tool to destroy other children’s dreams, separated from his friends and Yoru and forced to fight against them. And now, she was telling him that he had raped her. How hard could that have been to hear? His already-damaged heart must have been breaking. 

She wanted to hold him, to comfort him, but he continued to torment himself, asking those horrible questions. She knew it was his way of punishing himself.

“Where else?” he whispered. “Where else did I hurt you?”

She looked away. “I can’t… show you… not now…”

He stared at her face and understood. “How rough was I with you?” he whispered.

She shuddered. “Don’t make me say this,” she pleaded. “Please, don’t make me. I don’t want you to hurt…”

He pressed his palm to the scar on her chest. “Amu, what I did to you is unforgivable and I can’t even remember doing it, just snippets and flashes like it was all a bad dream. It’s not your burden to bear. It’s mine. I’m the one who did wrong here,” he murmured and gently cupped her face, lifting her chin to meet his eyes. “Please, just tell me. Let me see.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head, hugging herself.

Ikuto’s nimble fingers buttoned her shirt, hiding the scar, hoping that being covered would help her calm down. “Amu,” he whispered. “It doesn’t matter if it will hurt me. I already… I already hurt you so much. I deserve it so… Tell me, how rough was I?”

She clasped his hands and then threw her arms around his shoulders, clinging to him tightly. Then, she whispered so softly that he barely heard her. “I bled, Ikuto… I bled for three days… inside.”

His blood ran cold, his heart ceasing to beat. “Three days?”

“The Heart Rod… it ripped me up,” she whispered. “And then you…”

Even though Yoru had already told Ikuto everything, it was hard to hear again, especially from Amu’s lips. She cried as she told him, but he was comforted by the fact that she clung to him, sobbing. Even though he had raped her, she wasn’t afraid of him. She still trusted him on some deep stupid level, but he was lucky. When she finished, he just held her small body cradled in his arms, stroking a patch of bare skin at her throat. Her pulse was so strong—her heart was so strong.

“Amu?” he whispered suddenly.

She was exhausted, sleepy from crying. “Hmm?” she asked blearily.

“Can you ever forgive me?” he asked softly, fear and regret in his voice. What would he do if she denied him? What would he…? But, as before, he had to know. “Can you forgive me for what I did to you?”

She ran her fingers over the dried blood at his throat tenderly, feeling a small shiver go through his body. He had been willing to give her his life to repent for what he had done if that was what she wanted. If he was willing to go that far, she was certain he would be willing to leave and never come back. He… really did care for her. It wasn’t his fault what had happened—it was Easter’s and Kazuomi’s and Death Rebel’s, but not Ikuto’s—never Ikuto’s. She couldn’t blame him and she knew he cared for her, cared so deeply that his love was all that had saved her from death. 

Sleepily, she nodded. “I think so,” she whispered.

He dipped his face into her hair, breathing in the scent of her skin. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you…”

“I’m so tired,” she murmured with a yawn. The weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on her shoulders, some of the burden lifted by telling him the truth, but still, she was so tired. “Sleepy,” she whispered, rubbing her eyes like a small child.

Ikuto smiled softly. 

She was so young, so small, still so innocent. In his heart, he knew he had never meant to hurt her. He had used the Heart Rod on her because he thought somehow it would make it better—as if that way, he wouldn’t really be taking her virginity, but he had been so wrong. For three days… she had bled and within the control, he had wound up taking her himself anyway. So much for what his broken heart had tried to protect her from. Biting back the tears gathered in his throat, he rose from the bed and laid her down, pulling the covers up to her chin and gently tucking her in. 

She rolled over on her side, facing him, her golden eyes gazing at him through the darkness. Then, he dipped his head towards her and though she was unable to stop her flinch, she didn’t pull completely away. He pressed a soft tender kiss to her forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’ll leave now,” he told her. “Just get some rest.”

Her fingers suddenly tangled in his shirt. “No,” she murmured. “Stay…”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat. 

She nodded, her cheeks pale pink.

His heart both swelled and broke as he toed off his shoes and slipped beneath the blankets beside the ravaged girl. How could she still trust him? How could she be willing to give him another chance? She was so gentle, too kind, so sweet. She was an angel, even though he had pulled her wings off so that she would never fly again.

“Amu?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

“How can you forgive me so easily?”

She snuggled into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. He was so thin, so warm, his heart beating hard within the cage of his chest.

“How?” he whispered again, pleadingly.

“Because it wasn’t your fault and because you’ve forgiven me for the things I’ve done (1) and because… you love me.”

“I do,” he murmured, stroking her hair.

“I know,” she said softly. “And I know that if you had been you and not Death Rebel, you never would have hurt me. How could I blame you for something you had no control over? It wasn’t… your fault…”

He hugged her close against his chest, cradling her tightly. “Thank you, Amu,” he whispered.

She nodded and nestled closer into his arms, her breathing deep and even against his wounded throat. Her body was so warm and so small. How much must it have hurt her when he pushed the heart-shaped stone inside her small body? She must have screamed. But he pushed those thoughts away and focused on holding her, touching her, occasionally kissing her forehead. In sleep, she murmured in honest pleasure and snuggled closer to him.

“I love you and… thank you,” he whispered even though he knew she was already asleep. 

X X X

(1) Think about it. Ikuto has forgiven Amu for doing nasty things to him—like telling him how she hated him and that she never wanted to see him again. It didn’t really have a place in their actual conversation, but I wanted to explain in case someone was confused by that statement.

Questions, comments, concerns?

You know you want to… REVIEW!


	3. The Nightmares

It’s been a weird sort of week. I feel like I’m in a horror movie, kind of… I don’t know. I need some sleep and some ice cream.

X X X

Amu wasn’t sure if she felt better or worse having told Ikuto the truth. She wondered if he would have preferred to got the rest of his life without knowing. But there was nothing she could do about it now, just as he could never take back what Death Rebel had done to her. It was in the past, over and done with, and had left no lasting damage—such as pregnancy—on the future. This was something they would have to learn to live with or else let it break them apart forever. 

Ikuto was not ready to let Amu go and he wasn’t sure he would even be able to. Though he never told her, he had been selfish the night he offered her his life. He should have come and asked if she wanted him to leave and never come back rather than risking his blood on her hands, but he was selfish. He couldn’t live without her. To stay away and never come back… he could never do that. It would have been easier to die at her hands, her hands as kind as an angel’s.

Amu wasn’t sure she could live without Ikuto either. She was still just a girl and wasn’t sure if her love for Tadase was true or just puppy love. Similarly, she wasn’t sure if she loved Ikuto or just cared for him deeply. All she knew for certain was that she didn’t want him to be hurt and she wanted to protect him and that when he was with her, she could laugh and be herself without fear. With Ikuto, she was everything she wanted to be rather than the cool and spicy outer character she showed to Tadase.

Since she had told him the truth, Ikuto spent most nights with her, snuggled up in the bed at her side. Sometimes, Yoru slept tucked under Ikuto’s chin, purring soothingly and making Amu smile because Ikuto always fell asleep first when Yoru did that. The bond between those two was so amazing and strong. But most of the time, they were alone together in her bed. It was strange how much trust she had in him, even after what had happened, but she did. 

She trusted him.

Maybe it was because each night, when he thought she was asleep, he whispered, “I love you and… thank you,” into her hair before lightly kissing her forehead and then falling asleep himself. Sometimes, Amu was asleep and missed it, but she had heard him whisper that rather frequently as if he said it each and every night. It was as consistent as Yoru’s soft purring.

But still… what had happened was an iron curtain between them.

Amu found that on the nights Ikuto slept beside her, cradling her in his arms, she woke with hideous nightmares. A few times, she had even screamed out loud and sent her parents running to the room to check on her (something that forced Ikuto to stash himself in the closet to hide). Ikuto always asked her what she was dreaming about, but she didn’t tell him the truth. She simply insisted it was a stupid dream about the monster in the closet, a childish nightmare. He seemed to believe her, never pressing if he thought she was lying.

On one such night, nearly three weeks since Amu had told him the truth, a vicious nightmare struck.

It was pouring down rain, the icy chill spreading through her entire naked body. The cut on her chest was deeper, wider, splitting her open like a cadaver for dissection. She could see her own heart beating through her shattered ribs, pumping out life-giving blood. The Heart Rod was already deep inside her small body, pushed deeper than even possible. She could practically see it coming out of her stomach. And then, Ikuto took her with his scythe, thrusting it deep into her ruined insides. 

His face was streaked with more than water, sobbing as he destroyed her. Amu wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, wanted to console him, but she couldn’t. She was in too much pain, an inhuman amount of pain, and there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t fight Ikuto, not in reality, not even in her dreams. Then, abruptly, finished with both of them, Kazuomi tossed aside the tuning fork and vanished within the dreamland surroundings. Ikuto collapsed beside her, cradling her demolished body to his chest.

He was sobbing, crying out his apologies, trying to hold her together, trying to hold himself together. Amu tightened her fingers in his feathered shirt and then, she felt the pure-black egg ooze from his body. The Death Rebel transformation vanished. Naked, Ikuto held her to his body, but she was afraid of his bare skin. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want to be here with him. He had raped her! Screaming, she shoved herself away from him, staggered to her feet, and watched as her beating heart tumbled out of her open chest.

Ikuto stared at it and then gently reached to pick up her heart, offering it to her with both hands. Amu grabbed it from him, clutching it back to her ruined chest, and fled into the rain. He couldn’t even follow because the path of blood she left behind was washed away. She abandoned Ikuto and, in despair, he truly did take his own life to compensate her. Like all his compensations, they came at night with a soft tap on her balcony door. When she looked up, she only glimpsed the noose around his thin throat before he plunged over the edge of the balcony. 

Screaming like a banshee, Amu woke the dead, her parents, and Ikuto.

For a moment, she saw Ikuto’s pale face looking down at her in concern. Then, they both heard her parent’s footsteps in the hallway and Ikuto bolted away, slamming himself into her closet. Not a moment later, Tsumugu and Midori entered, cooing and fussing over Amu.

Once Amu assured them that she was alright, they returned to their bedroom. Once the house was quiet again, Ikuto crept from the closet and crawled back into the bed with her. He normally didn’t try to touch her after a nightmare and Amu was grateful for that, but tonight… she wanted his comfort. She turned towards him and buried her face in his chest. Immediately, as if receiving permission, he wrapped his arms around her tightly and cradled her.

“Amu,” he whispered. “You have to talk to me. I know these nightmares aren’t about the boogeyman.”

She bit her lip, staring into his face through the thin darkness. Why did he look so pale?

Tenderly, he traced his fingertips around the edge of her face, idly following the curve of her jaw. “Tell me, Amu. You can,” he hesitated, but continued anyway, “You can trust me with anything.”

She fisted her hand in his shirt, trying to soothe his insecurities. “I know, it’s just…”

He squeezed her small body closer, as if his arms alone could protect her from the darkness both within and without. If only his arms had been able to protect her from himself, then none of this would have happened, but he hadn’t been strong enough. He shuddered, fighting those dark thoughts and images. Instead, he whispered, “They’re about that day, aren’t they?”

Amu pushed her face into his chest, inhaling the scent of his skin. Then, she spoke, her voice muffled by his shirt. “Not the way you’d think,” she confessed. “It’s just… I…” She struggled to speak, her voice breaking.

Ikuto hushed her, rubbing her back. “Take your time.”

“My nightmares are… about that day, but Death Rebel lets you go afterwards. And you’re crying, but I… I leave you there. I run away from you,” she whispered. “And then, you… you commit suicide off my balcony… as payment for what you did.”

He tensed, gripping her tightly. Though he had once offered her his life in retribution for his crimes, the thought of leaving her now was terrifying. He wanted to stay at her side, to keep holding her like this in the night, to comfort and thank her and tell her his feelings even though she was always asleep by the time he whispered his confession. It felt good to tell her the truth, to say those words out loud.

She clung to him, her arms going tightly around his thin waist. His hips pressed into her small body almost painfully—he was so thin. “It’s awful,” she whispered. “To watch you suffer like that.”

“And that makes you wake up screaming?” he whispered.

She nodded into his chest.

“And it’s always that same dream?” he asked softly.

She started to nod, started to lie, but then bit her lip and shook her head. 

“What’s the other nightmare?” he asked.

She hesitated, not wanting to tell him, but she knew she had to. “It’s… just that day… with the Heart Rod and then… you…”

He squeezed her tightly as if to pull her inside the shelter of his body, as if that would be enough to protect her from everything—from all the nightmares in the world. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, stroking her pale rosette hair. 

Tears burned in her eyes. “I know you are,” she whispered. “I am, too. I just… I can’t get past what happened. When I’m awake, I can, but once I go to sleep… my dreams are like this.”

“All the time?” he asked gently since he didn’t spend every night with her.

She dreaded that question even more than telling him what her nightmares entailed. “No,” she confessed. “Only when you’re with me.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak. Then, he repeated, stricken, “Only when I’m with you… you have nightmares…” 

Amu swallowed, waiting to see what he was going to do.

Gently, he unwrapped her arms from his waist, sat up on the edge of the bed, and turned away. She saw him tremble, his shoulders quaking. “Do you want me to… leave?” he asked.

She whispered, “No. Don’t go.”

“But… if I’m here…” he breathed.

She embraced him from behind, her hands pressing to his chest over his heart. His heartbeat felt so ragged beneath her palm. “I don’t care,” she whispered. “Only one nightmare is about what happened. The other is about leaving you. Do you want my nightmare to come true?” she asked him softly, pressing her face into his back. He was so warm, so thin… She could have wrapped her arms around his body twice. 

He turned around, sheltering her in his arms again. “No,” he murmured. “I… I want to make your dreams come true…”

Amu snuggled into him, her fingers tangling in the soft hairs at the base of his neck. 

“Tell me your dreams, Amu,” he whispered.

She smiled, burying her face into the side of his throat. A faint scar remained there from where he had pressed the knife to his jugular and offered his life. Gingerly, she traced it with her fingertip and he shivered. “Ikuto,” she said gently. “I don’t think you can grant my dreams.”

“Just tell me,” he pleaded. “I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.”

She bit her lip. “You can’t…”

“Please,” he whispered and cupped her face gently. “Please?”

“I’d want… to be a virgin again,” she breathed.

He was still for a moment, holding her. Then, he dipped his head in shame and murmured, “I don’t think I can grant that.”

“I know,” she whispered. “It’s alright. Just… stay here with me and hold me… Don’t leave me.”

“Forever,” he promised her because that was a dream he could grant. Honestly, it was his own dream as well.

She smiled sadly and burrowed deeper into his arms, her nose pressed into the hollow of his throat. Ikuto cradled her tightly, relishing the warmth and softness of her small body. She was grateful for his long arms and legs twined around her, sheltering her like a fortress of bone. So long as Ikuto stayed with her like this, holding her, she had a feeling she would be alright someday. Once she was asleep, he whispered his confession—‘I love you and I’m so sorry and thank you.’

…

Somehow, after telling Ikuto the truth about her nightmares, they began to come less and less frequent. Now, she didn’t wake screaming anymore. She only woke panting and soaked with sweat, shivering, and Ikuto was always there in the bed beside her. His blue eyes shone in the dark set in the pale porcelain of his face. He would gently tuck her wild hair behind her ear and ask her what she had dreamed—had nightmares—about. For some reason, after she told him, she never had that nightmare again.

It was like when she was little and her father had her draw the monster from her nightmare on paper. Then, together, they stood at the sink and burned the paper monster. After that, the monster never assaulted Amu’s dreams again though new ones did crop up. (The only monster she had never been rid of was the one that lived in the closet. It was a little ironic since the closet was where Ikuto hid from her family.) Even so, the nightmares began to grow fewer and farther between.

When she looked at Ikuto’s face, she no longer saw Death Rebel. 

In fact, her heart began to beat faster for a reason completely opposite fear.

Friday night, Amu and her family came home from a celebratory dinner at a nice restaurant. Clattering happily even though it was late and Ami was dead-asleep on Tsumugu’s back, Amu came into the house. She helped her mother put away the leftovers, kissed both her parents goodnight, and headed upstairs. She ducked into the bathroom immediately, smiling and singing absently to herself. She started the shower, stripped, and ducked beneath the spray. 

She thought of Ikuto as she washed her hair, unable to stop the way her body heated up. He was so precious to her—she would even call him her best friend, even over Rima and Nadeshiko. There was no one she trusted as completely as Ikuto. As she thought about it, she wondered if that was twisted of her. Honestly, he had taken her virginity by force and then asked her to kill him, and yet… she couldn’t imagine a day without him there.

Amu finished her shower, wrapped her naked body in a towel, and practically danced her way to her bedroom, humming the tune he always played on his violin. She opened the door and flipped on the light, freeing the towel from her grip, but then she saw him. Ikuto was lying innocently on her bed, on his belly reading manga with his legs crossed at the ankles. He looked at her, a smile half-way on his face, until he noticed the towel slipping from her fingers. For a moment, she scrambled to grab it, but was unable to. 

With a wet slap, it hit the floor and she was completely naked before him. Stunned, he stared at her for a few heartbeats. Even though time had passed since he had hurt her so badly, the wounds he had left behind were still so livid. The scar that bisected her chest from collarbone to hip was bright-pink as if the blood was just beneath the surface. He was suddenly aware that he was still looking at her and turned his face away, ashamed for more than one reason. 

Then, stifling a scream, Amu grabbed the towel and clutched it to her nudity. She rushed to her closet and hastily pulled on pajamas even though Ikuto had focused his gaze out the window and could be trusted not to look. Fully clothed and even still clutching the towel since she felt so exposed, Amu nervously approached him.

“Ikuto,” she whispered.

“Are you decent?” he asked.

She nodded and then whispered, “Yes,” since he was still looking away.

He closed the manga with one long-fingered hand and then turned to face her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“It was an accident,” Amu murmured. 

He gently took her hand, rubbing his fingertips over her knuckles. “Not just for that, but for…”

“Ikuto, you don’t have to apologize,” she breathed. 

He sighed heavily. “Amu, you’re too good to me,” he murmured.

She lay down beside him, head resting on her arm so she could stare at his pale face. In silence, she lay there, just gazing at him. Self-consciously, he closed his eyes, but did not turn away from her. Suddenly, she caressed the side of his face gently. He jolted, unsuspecting, his eyes flying open. Her golden eyes were wide and she started to pull her hand back, but her caught her fingers. Portraying his emotions with his eyes and soft touch, he guided her hand back to his face. 

She could touch him all she wanted. She could have his very life if she so desired. He would do that much for her, go that far for her. Since she seemed uneasy with him staring at her, he closed his dark eyes again, resting his face on her pillow. Amu continued to gingerly touch him, first timidly tracing the edges of his face, but growing bolder and bolder as she continued. When she gently traced the outline of his mouth, he thought he might melt.

Amu’s heart was pounding as she touched Ikuto. He was so trusting, letting her touch every inch of his face and throat without ever flinching. She ran her fingers over his eyes, feeling the thick tickle of his long lashes against her fingertips and the thin membrane twitch as she touched it. She caressed his cheeks and nose, stroking his night-dark hair back from his pale face. Then, working up her courage, she touched his mouth, tracing the soft flesh gently. 

She rested her finger on his lower lip, amazed by how chapped his lips felt. Sometimes, she still expected life to be like a movie. She had expected his lips to feel like velvet, like all the romance books described, but they didn’t. They were dry and chapped, rough even. But as she pressed experimentally at his lip, his mouth opened slightly, not wide like he was about to devour her, just a little bit. His tongue darted out and gently licked the tip of her finger.

Amu didn’t know what possessed her, but she slipped her finger into his mouth, surprised when he closed his lips around it. His tongue laved wet attention on her finger, tracing over her sensitive knuckles and over her smooth nail. His mouth was so warm, so gentle, even as she purposefully allowed her finger to slip between his teeth he didn’t try to bite her. She wondered what he would do if she tried to push her finger down his throat to choke him, but she would never do that.

“Ikuto?” she asked suddenly.

“Hmm?” he murmured, eyes opening slightly. 

She stared at him, drinking in the sight of his beautiful dark eyes. His lips might not have come out of the pages of a romance novel, not as chapped as they were, but his face certainly did. She had never seen any boy so beautiful, not even Nagihiko who was the lovely Nadeshiko’s twin. Ikuto was stunning. Without speaking, Amu gently stroked his dark hair, the strands as soft and silky as cat’s fur beneath her fingers. Ikuto’s eyes slid closed again, whether out of pleasure or because she didn’t want him to look at her, she wasn’t certain.

His beautiful sapphire-dark eyes were closed. His face was smooth and relaxed save a small troubled wrinkle between his brows. He seemed so fragile, his lashes so long they left bruise-like shadows beneath his eyes. He looked so defenseless, so much younger than Amu knew him to be, almost like a child her age. Gently, she cupped his cheek, her thumb resting at the corner of his lips and she stroked his pale soft skin. Like a big cat, he pushed his face into her hand. A soft smile touched his lips.

“Ikuto?” she whispered again.

As before, he murmured, “Hmm?” but he didn’t open his eyes.

“Can I… can I kiss you?”

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t open them. “If you want to,” he breathed softly.

Gingerly, Amu cupped his face and leaned down. Her breath tickled his chapped lips and they touched in just the faintest brush. It was like the touch of butterfly wings, so gentle, so timid, so fragile. Then, with only that tiniest touch, she pulled back. 

Ikuto waited a moment, keeping his eyes closed, but she didn’t lean down again. Slowly, he opened his eyes and gazed up at her. “Amu? Is something wrong?” he asked.

She shook her head, looking away from his face. Suddenly, she got up, crossed the room, and turned off the light. Navigating in the darkness of her room, she returned to the bed and crawled beneath the covers, lying with her back to him. Ikuto gave her a minute to collect herself and then slipped beneath the blankets as well. After a moment, he spooned his long body against her back, wrapping his arm over her waist and grasping her small hands tenderly. 

Amu toyed with his fingers, exploring the soft sensitive skin between his fingers and tracing the life line on his palm. His chest rose and fell with each breath, his heartbeat knocking softly against his ribs, and she could feel his life against her back. She relaxed, her eyes closing peacefully. Ikuto breathed into her hair, his lips resting lightly against the bare flesh of the back of her neck. After a moment, he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck.

Amu shivered, gripping his hands tightly. 

He laced their fingers together, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. 

She sighed, relaxing in his embrace.

“Amu,” he whispered softly in the darkness between them. “Why did you… want to kiss me?”

She tensed in his arms.

He gently pressed his lips to the back of her neck. “It’s alright,” he whispered. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just… curious.”

Amu sighed, snuggling back against his chest. She lifted his hands to her lips and gently pressed her mouth against the back of his hand, exchanging the soft kiss he had lavished against her neck. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I just… I wanted to…”

“That’s alright,” he murmured. “It’s alright.”

She bit her lip and then whispered, “Do you think… this is wrong?”

His heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

“You… I mean, Death Rebel…”

“That was me, Amu,” he said softly. “Don’t try to make it sound like I didn’t do anything wrong.”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “Y-you raped me and I… I trust you so much. I can’t be myself with anyone but you. I need you and I… I think that I…” she struggled, unable to get her feelings into words. “I think I love you.”

Ikuto tightened his arms around her. “You… you do?”

“Is that… is that wrong?” she sobbed.

He helped her roll over to face him in the bed, tucking the sheets up around her shoulders to keep her warm as if the heat from his body wouldn’t be enough, and gently cupped her face. Her golden eyes glowed in the dark and he wondered what his own eyes looked like. Did they look like darkness, like Death Rebel’s eyes to her? Or did she see him now, really see him? 

He whispered, “If it’s how you feel, how can it ever be wrong?” 

A tear rolled down her cheek and he brushed it away with his thumb.

“Is it wrong that I love you, too?” he asked softly. “Even knowing that I raped you. Even with that, is it wrong that I love you with everything I have left?” 

She opened her mouth to tell him ‘No,’ but he silenced her as if sensing her answer.

“Then, if it’s not wrong for me, why would it ever be wrong for you, Amu?” he asked gently.

She didn’t have an answer to that. Why did she feel as if his love was perfect, but her own was somehow… tainted? They had both been through the same thing so why did she feel this way? Was it because he had been forced to rape her? Was it because she hadn’t been strong enough to fight him off and stop this from happening? Where had she drawn the line in the sand?

“Amu?” he whispered.

She met his dark eyes silently.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

She nodded without thinking, too captivated by the sight of his eyes. They were so filled with emotion, so bright, shining. She saw nothing of Death Rebel in his face, as if they were two separate people. Then, Ikuto was gently holding her face in his hands, his thumb gently touching her bottom lip so that she parted them slightly. He leaned towards her, those beautiful eyes holding her own until she was cross-eyed trying to keep the contact. His lips touched hers so gently, even more gently than she had kissed him. His kiss was like a single snowflake, a single raindrop, brief and soft.

Once he pulled back slightly, Amu found herself following him, eyes fluttering closed in bliss. She wanted him to kiss her more, harder and deeper and until the end of time. She wasn’t afraid and this would be her first kiss. While raping her, Death Rebel had never once kissed her. 

Her first kiss… 

With Ikuto… 

Somehow, though she had always thought it would be with Tadase, she found that this would be so much better. With Ikuto, she could be honest and young and inexperienced. He would never once reproach her or laugh. But neither would Tadase so… why did she want Ikuto so much?

He held her back gently. “Are you sure this is what you want?” he whispered.

She paused, hesitating, her mind clearing a little bit as she gazed at him. God, he smelled wonderful, so sweet that she felt drunk off of the scent of his skin. But she fought those feelings back and thought about it—honestly and truthfully thought about what she wanted. Did she want Ikuto to kiss her? To take away her last first?

He bit his lip as he waited patiently for her answer.

Amu stared into Ikuto’s pale face, into his dark eyes, into his very broken soul. He was afraid, she realized, afraid that she would turn him down. He was afraid that what he had done would bar them apart forever, no matter how much he loved her. He was… fragile, made out of glass and already cracked from the center by everything bad that had happened to him. If someone dropped him one more time, he would probably just shatter into a thousand peices. She had never realized that, just like she had never realized Death Rebel was destroying him. How could she be so blind to him?

In this moment, Ikuto was offering her his transparent glass heart and giving her the choice to break him or accept what had happened. 

In this moment, he was prepared to take the punishment for his crime or else be finally forgiven.

Amu’s heart skipped a beat. Was that really what she saw in his face? Shame and guilt? Did he still feel guilt for what he had done? But how could he not? She was still afraid of him, still having nightmares, still holding him at arm’s length. She was still a little afraid, still recovering, but it must have been hard for him. He hadn’t been able to stop himself, he had been forced to rape her—raping himself in a way—and she still blamed him for something he couldn’t even control. She hadn’t even realized.

If she could only forgive him… 

If she could accept his kiss…

If she could still love him…

Ikuto didn’t deserve to hurt anymore and neither did she. She closed the small space between them, her lips pressing solidly against his. For a moment, he was stunned. Then, relief surged through him and he threaded his long fingers through her rosette hair, pulling her closer. She clung to him, her kiss almost desperate and Ikuto matched her, holding her so tightly that she was going to be pulled inside his skin.

Amu didn’t care what was right and what was wrong anymore. She didn’t care if it was twisted to fall in love with her rapist. She didn’t care that she was supposed to be in love with Tadase. She just didn’t care. All that mattered to her was that she wanted to be with Ikuto like this. She wanted to feel his kisses and sleep in his arms. 

She wanted to love and be loved by him.

And, maybe someday… she wanted to be with him gently and completely on a bed of roses with candles and soft music. She knew that if that was what she wished, Ikuto would do that for her. He would do anything for her—hell, he would give up his own life for her.

X X X

ATTENTION EVERYONE ELSE! This is now a five-shot… I can’t keep it under control.

Questions, comments, concerns? Are you aware that each chapter is 5,000 words long? Wow!

Review, everybody! Va-va-va-voom! (I don’t know… I haven’t had enough sleep and I just got home from work.)


	4. Trapped: A Touch and a Kiss

Eh, this story grew on my again… How about I just tell everyone when it’s over…?

X X X

What Amu found she loved the most about Ikuto was his ability to make everything seem alright. When she finally told Tadase that she still cared for him, but only as a friend, and he took it so hard that she thought for certain she broke him forever. Ikuto held her in his arms and spoke softly and kissed the sensitive place behind her ear and made it alright with just a few simple words. He was like an angel, always knowing the right words to say to take away all the pain or regret or sorrow.

“You’re both so young. He’ll be okay, I promise,” he had whispered gently, holding her tenderly.

The other thing she loved was that Ikuto never lied to her, even when he probably should have. There were things children shouldn’t know about adults, about people in general, about what horrible things they were capable of. But he was always honest. When they lay awake in her bed at night, talking softly after a nightmare had woken her, he always told her the truth, even about things he knew she shouldn’t know until she was more mature—like the things Easter had done to him, the things he had been through at his step-father’s hands.

He always whispered, “The truth is…” and then he told her. 

He told her how they had beaten him badly after he helped her and the other Guardians, how the beating had gotten worse each time. Easter had nearly demolished his body and it didn’t even matter to them that he was bleeding. He had to continue to work for them or else the people he loved would be hurt instead. He showed her a broken bone in his ribcage that had never healed, let her press her fingers to the crooked indentation just below his heart. He showed her the scars in his scalp beneath his night-dark hair.

“Did it hurt?” she had whispered.

“Very much,” he said honestly.

She also loved his violin, the soft expression on his face when he played, the way his fingers danced, the way his thin body swayed to the beat. Since being freed from Easter, the violin was no longer a tool to destroy him, but she saw his hands tremble sometimes when he lifted it from the worn white case. Then, like an angel, he tucked it under his chin and closed his eyes and played for her. His music was so sweet, so soft, and even a little bit sad. His music was the portal into his heart, precious and as fragile as old paper.

“I wrote this song for you,” he murmured, moonlight playing on his pale face.

Honestly, Amu found that she had a harder time picking a trait she didn’t like about Ikuto. Even his teasing and his perverseness (which he toned down a great amount so he wouldn’t upset her accidentally) was simply endearing. Maybe she was aggravated by the fact that he insisted on pressing his cold bare feet to the back of her legs, but he only did that while he was cuddling her so tenderly so… Even that she couldn’t bring herself to dislike.

She knew he was a human being with faults, but to her… they didn’t even matter. Ikuto was someone who was too precious to her for anything else to matter. She had even pushed away all her thoughts and nightmares of what had happened. She could put it behind her, she could let it go. So what if she wasn’t a virgin? Ikuto didn’t care, didn’t think of her as damaged goods like some old-fashioned lord. 

She smiled softly and gently pinched Ikuto’s nose as he pretended to sleep beside her in the dark. She watched his brow wrinkle slightly, practically seeing the thoughts run across his forehead—‘Don’t panic. You’ve experience oxygen deprivation before.’ But he finally caved, his mouth opening as he gasped for air like a fish out of water.

“I can’t breathe, Amu,” he said, voice garbled by her still holding his nose.

She giggled. “Yes, you can.”

“I don’t like to breathe through my mouth,” he complained, turning his head from side to side in an attempt to shake off her hold on his nose. “Let go!”

She let go and snuggled into his side, his arm wrapping automatically around her waist. 

With a sigh, Ikuto cradled her. “Is there any particular reason you decided to try to smother me?”

“Not really,” she said, giggling again.

He chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest almost like a purr. 

They lay in her bed, intertwined, facing each other. Amu had her arm draped over Ikuto’s thin hips, her fingers idly stroking the break he hid beneath his clothes. One of his arms was beneath her head, supporting her while his fingers idly toyed with her pale rose-colored hair. His other wrapped over her waist and pressed against her back, holding her close to his body. Their legs tangled slightly, hers fitting between his like a shelter. She loved being with him like this. She felt so safe, so protected, so… loved. 

“Amu?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Can I… touch you? Just a little bit?” he asked softly, almost timidly.

She wet her lips, keeping her face pressed into his chest. Then, slowly, she nodded, unable to stop the soft ripple of tension that ran through her small body. Ikuto let out a soft breath of relief, stirring her hair and tickling her neck. She squirmed against him, fingers tightening in his shirt. He ran his hand down her back tenderly, stroking the length of her spine from shoulder to waistline. For a long time, that was all he did and Amu’s fear melted away. 

His touch… was so gentle.

He wasn’t Death Rebel.

Then, she felt his fingers at the hem of her pajama top and tensed again, but he waited patiently, fingertips stroking the clothed flesh just above the hem of her top. When she relaxed, soothed by his patience, he let his hand slip beneath the shirt and pressed softly to her bare skin. She shivered, but not out of fear. His hand was so warm, so rough on her velvet skin, but his touch was like silk in comparison. Gently, he resumed his touch, stroking a path from her shoulders to her waist beneath her shirt. 

And that night, that was all his touch entailed. 

Amu was so relaxed in his arms, soothed by his touch, that she fell asleep like that. Once she was asleep, Ikuto gently whispered, “I love you,” and pressed his lips to her forehead. She murmured softly and snuggled closer to him, his hand still pressed to her naked skin. It wasn’t much, but it was progress.

…

In the time that followed, their nightly ritual continued in much the same way. Ikuto would ask to touch her, stroke her back over her clothes for a while, and then slip his hand beneath the fabric. Amu found that she actually looked forward to the feeling of his skin on hers. She even found that she wanted more. She wanted to touch Ikuto’s naked skin, too, but she didn’t quite dare ask him.

Tonight, he asked again and she gave her consent, but he stroked her stomach gently, fingers teasing the length of her belly from just beneath her breasts to the waistband of her pajama pants over her clothes. Her skin felt hot at the thought of him touching her bare stomach and she squirmed against him.

“Sorry,” he said softly, stilling his hand. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

She stuttered, “N-no.”

“Then why are you moving like that?” he asked.

She bit her lip, caught between wanting to tell him the truth and being too embarrassed to. “Um,” she whispered.

His lips curved into a small grin. “Could you perhaps… like it?” he asked teasingly.

She blushed, her cheeks going bright red. Immediately, she pushed back and was about to snap, ‘No!’ but then she saw his dark blue eyes gleaming in the darkness. There was uncertainty in his gaze, as if he was going too far so instead, she whispered the truth as he would have. “The truth is,” she confessed, “I like it and I… I want to touch you, too.” There, she said it.

For a moment, Ikuto just stared at her, stunned. Of all the things he had been expecting her to say, that was not one of them. “Really?” he breathed.

She couldn’t speak so she simply nodded.

Gently, he tickled her to break the tension. When she finished giggling and lay beside him, panting for breath from laughing so hard, he laid his hand on her stomach again, stroking the sensitive flesh. Then, as he had before, he slipped his hand beneath her nightshirt and rested his warm palm on her bare flesh. Amu trembled beneath his touch, her lips parting in pleasure. He slowly began to stroke the expanse of skin between the bottoms of her breasts to her hips. Occasionally, his fingers followed the path of the scar there.

Amu tried to stay awake, too soothed by his touch to keep her eyes open. To stay awake, she timidly reached out and rested her hand on the flat plane of his stomach. His muscles rippled in surprise beneath her touch and she was about to pull her hand back when he laid his over hers. 

“Don’t,” he said pleadingly. “Just do… whatever you want to me, Amu.”

His dark eyes seemed to glow and she nodded, swallowing.

He lifted his hand from hers, laying it gently on her shoulder while his other hand continued to stroke the smooth skin of her belly. Amu was timid at first, her fingertips ghosting across his toned stomach and chest. Then, since he had touched her, she found the courage to do that same. Besides, she had touched his bare chest before with his hand guiding her fingers to his healed broken rib. Now, she lifted his shirt and found that old break again, laying her fingers into the hollow there. 

Ikuto shivered, unable to focus on the feeling of her soft skin beneath his fingers while she was touching him so gently. Amu cautiously explored the plane of his chest, tracing the contours of his muscles and bones, resting her hand over his heart to feel the unsteady beat, exploring the scars that lingered on his pale skin. Then, content with her touches, she rested her hand on the bare skin just above the waist of his pants and fell asleep. 

Ikuto was awake for much longer, the shock keeping him wakeful. He had never felt his heart beat so fast, as if the organ was trying to batter its way out of his body. She had touched him—she had asked to touch him—she had wanted to touch him. He hugged her closer, smiling. This was more than he had hoped for.

…

Since then, the touches had grown bolder. Now, Ikuto didn’t waste time touching her over her clothes. He went right for her bare skin and Amu did the same, but she hadn’t worked up the courage to either allow him to remove any of her clothing nor ask if she could take his shirt off. But tonight, she wanted to go as far as he would let her—and she already knew he would let her do whatever she wanted to him. So, really, she wanted to go as far as she could allow herself to.

“Amu?” Ikuto asked gently, his fingertips just beneath the crease of her small breasts. 

“Yeah?” she whispered, her hand resting on his sternum. 

“Can I…?” 

She blushed, momentarily arguing with herself, but finally nodded. “Y-yeah,” she breathed.

He kissed her cheek, his lips lingering until Amu thought her body was going to catch on fire. She let out a shuddering sigh, her nails raking his chest so that he shivered as well. Then, smoothly, while he had distracted her with a kiss, he slid his hand up and cupped her breast gently. He pinched her nipple lightly, twisting the little pebble between his fingers. Amu was amazing by how strange it felt, like a fine comb was running through her body. Something warm settled in her belly, beating like a second heart.

Ikuto kissed the corner of her mouth. “Does it feel good, Amu?”

She blushed, unable to answer him, but he blush was answer enough. 

He let his fingers walk from one breast to the other, cupping her neglected mound and applying the same wonderful torment to that nipple. A small sound escaped Amu and her back arched, pressing eagerly into his hand. Her fingers tightened into a fist against his chest as if seeking an anchor to hold her on earth before she floated up to cloud nine. Ikuto slipped his free hand beneath his shirt to capture her hand and intertwined their fingers. She sighed, clinging to his hand as he continued to touch her. 

He traced the path of her scar, prying a shiver of some unknown emotion from her body. Then, he returned his touch to her breasts, gently stroking them. He turned his face into the side of her neck, his breath hot against the shell of her ear. When his tongue gently lapped at her lobe, she thought she might melt. How could a simple touch like this feel so good? He had taken her as Death Rebel, had sex with her, and there had been only pain so… why did this feel so good?

“I-Ikuto,” she gasped, determined to ask him.

But he kissed the side of her neck and she forgot her alphabet. “What?” he asked.

“W-why?” she gasped.

He stopped, wondering what she was going to ask. “Why what?”

“Why does it… feel so… good?” she asked.

He nuzzled into the side of her throat, trying not to smile. So, it felt good, did it? But he didn’t really have an answer for her. Should he explain that it was just the nerves in her body responding to his touch? Should he tell her about foreplay? About sex? Or should he just…? Yeah, that was the best choice. “Because,” he whispered, kissing her lips gently. “We’re soul mates and I love you.”

Amu opened her mouth, about to respond to his confession, when there was a knock on her door. 

“Amu?” her mother called. “Are you still awake?”

Ikuto froze and Amu’s heart leaped into her throat, choking her. 

The knob rattled and began to turn. 

Ikuto dove away, not having time to hide in the closet as he usually would have. Instead, he simply wedged himself out of sight between the bed and the wall, praying that her mother didn’t come into the room far enough to see him. Just for good measure, Amu kicked all the pillows and blankets on top of his body, just to be certain he was hidden.

Then, Midori opened the door and flicked on the light. “Amu?”

“Mom,” Amur groaned, trying to sound as if she had been sleeping. “What is it?”

“I’m sorry, honey. I thought I heard voices,” Midori murmured, approaching the bed. “You’ve kicked all your covers off. Are you hot?”

“I was,” Amu said, rubbing her eyes sleepily. 

Midori felt her forehead, fussing as mothers were apt to do. But, she soon decided that Amu was alright, apologized for waking her up, and left the room. They both lay silent, barely breathing, listening as her footsteps retreated down the hallway outside. 

Then, Amu sighed in relief and rolled over, peering over the edge of the bed into the heap of blankets she had kicked off to hide Ikuto. She whispered, “Ikuto? Are you okay? You can come out now.”

“I’m fine,” he called, his voice muffled. There was some movement beneath all the pillows and blankets and he grunted a little. She heard him curse softly and one hand emerged from the blankets, flailing around for purchase. Then, the movement stopped. “Amu?” he asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, of course,” she said with a small smile. “Why?”

“I think… I’m stuck.”

“How can you be stuck?” she repeated. “You’re a twig.”

“A twig with long arms and legs. I can’t get out of the crack!” He sounded equally frustrated and embarrassed. “Help me.” His freed arm grabbed her headboard and pulled, but he didn’t emerge from the crevice. He seemed to be genuinely stuck between the bed and the wall and tangled in the blankets on top of that.

“Okay,” Amu said. “Hold on a minute.” She turned on a small bedside lamp so she could see what she was doing and began pulling the blankets and pillows out of the crevice. When she finished, she stared down into the tangled knot that was Ikuto’s long limbs. 

He was twisted around himself like something out of the old horror movie, The Exorcist. One leg was wedged half under the bed, his other arm pinned beneath his body, and he certainly was a little too big for the small space between the bed and the wall. His shirt was hitched up over his torso, exposing a good part of his lean stomach to her eyes. For a moment, she just stared at that demure trace of bare skin, awed. Was it wrong that she wanted to lean down and press her lips to his skin, to see what he tasted like.

“Amu,” Ikuto whined.

“Gee,” she said, pulling herself from her thoughts and suppressing a giggle. “You really are stuck, aren’t you?”

“Har har,” he said with a snort. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Maybe not,” she teased. “You look good like that.”

His eyes widened. “Amu! Come on, help me!”

She giggled and let her hand droop over the edge of the bed, gently stroking his exposed belly. “I don’t want to. I like you like this—at my mercy,” she teased.

His cheeks changed to the sweetest shade of pink and he murmured, “I’ll already at your mercy.”

Amu gazed at him, smiling happily. “I know. Okay, hold on a minute.”

“Not like I could go anywhere,” he muttered.

She grinned, woke their guardian characters, and explained the situation to them. 

Yoru, Dia, Ran, Miki, and Suu all gathered around the crevice between the bed and the wall. For a moment, they poked and prodded at him as if the slightest position change might loosen him up, but all they really accomplished was tickling him and getting him more stuck. By now, Ikuto looked a little like a crab.

Next, Yoru tried character changing with him. The cat’s lithe grace and flexibility didn’t do anything to get Ikuto out of the crevice either though it did get him into a more comfortable position. Now, he was lying on his side like a pretty vampire sleeping in its coffin save his one free arm which he flailed around desperately with.

Miki had drawn out several creative rope and pulley systems that might get Ikuto out, but they didn’t have the equipment for that. Suu suggested rubbing him with butter and squeezing him out. Ran tried cheering him out of the crack. Dia even blinded him with her radiance.

But, Ikuto was still trapped between the bed and the wall. By now, he was feeling a little resigned to his fate and had relaxed in his wedged-in position with a sigh. “This is hopeless,” he muttered. “I can’t get out. I’m going to be stuck here forever until I starve to death.”

Amu giggled. “I wouldn’t let you starve.”

He looked up at her, smiling trustingly. “I know you wouldn’t.” 

A light bulb came on in Amu’s head. Suddenly, she knew how to get Ikuto out of the crack. If she had learned on thing about him in their time together, it was that if Ikuto wanted something bad enough, nothing would stop him. Quickly, she gathered the charas, told them her plan, and sent them off.

“What’s going on?” Ikuto asked her. “Are you guys giving up?”

“Yeah,” Amu said, rolling over in the blankets and pillows she had pulled off of Ikuto. “You’ll just have to sleep there for the night.”

“Amu,” he whined. “The floor is cold and hard.”

“I’m sorry, but we just can’t get you out.”

He ‘hmphed,’ but didn’t have a valid argument. He was pretty stuck. He wasn’t even sure Suu’s butter idea was going to get him out. He reminded himself of a cat he had seen a few years ago with its head stuck inside an empty can of industrial-sized tuna. Of course, he had been there to help the poor creature out, but he was beginning to think nothing was going to get him out of this latest pickle. He sighed heavily, giving a half-hearted squirm.

“Ikuto?” Amu whispered.

“What?” he asked, a little grouchy with his predicament. 

“Can I have a kiss?” she asked timidly. 

His heart skipped a beat and he tried to sit up because he would never deny her something like that. But his shoulders caught between the bed and the wall and reminded him that he was stuck. “I can’t get out,” he grumbled. “You’ll have to come to me.”

“But… I’m embarrassed. I like it better when you come to me.”

He sighed. “Well, I can’t, Amu. I’m stuck.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

Silence stretched between them. Ikuto returned his mind to thoughts of other animals stuck in strange places. Yoru had once gotten himself stuck inside a bag of cheese doodles and when he came out, he was all orange. That had been pretty funny. This… not so much. Things were always funnier when they were happening to someone else.

“Ikuto?” Amu whispered again.

“What?” he asked.

“I… I’ve always wanted to try French kissing with you…”

His heart skipped another beat, racing a mile a minute. Again, he immediately tried to get loose of his latest cage, but his knees were caught under the bed, his arm was pinned beneath him, and his shoulders were still stuck. He couldn’t get out of the crack!

“I’m still stuck, Amu,” he said with a hard sigh. “Just like before.”

“Oh,” was all she said.

There was more silence. Ikuto listened to her breathing, listened to the creaking of the mattress as she shifted her weight. He squirmed in the cranny he was wedged in. How was it that he was so stuck when Santa could fit down the chimney in every house in the world? Ikuto had to be one-sixteenth Santa’s size so why was he stuck? Was fate that cruel? He grumbled, wriggling.

“Ikuto?” Amu whispered.

“What?” he asked again.

She sniffled. “D-don’t you want to kiss me?”

“Of course I do, but I’m stuck!” 

She sobbed.

Ikuto’s heart broke. Goddamn it! He would not allow this! He wriggled and squirmed and scraped and scrambled. He pulled and heaved and flailed and pushed. He sucked in it and pushed it out and stuck out his tongue in concentration and wrinkled his brows. Then, bodily, he shoved her bed over two inches which gave him the much needed room to escape his prison. With a whoop of victory, he sat up and found Amu grinning at him, her golden eyes glowing in the dark.

“You’re loose!” she said happily. Her face was completely dry without a trace of sadness. 

She had been baiting him, he realized. “You…you minx!” He tackled her, wrapping her up in his arms like a cocoon and kissing hotly all over the back of her neck. She giggled, trashing against him, begging and pleading with him to stop. Finally, he did and she collapsed against him, panting as if she had just run a marathon. “If you’re not quiet, your mom will come in to check on us again,” he warned.

She smiled at him. “Then you’ll get stuck between the bed and the wall again.”

He snorted. “I wasn’t stuck. Cats never get stuck.”

She flicked his nose. “They get stuck in trees all the time.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Just be quiet.”

She giggled, snuggling into his arms. “I’m glad you got out alright.”

“Are you kidding? That was like being born again.”

She laughed and he swatted the pillow over her face. 

“Oh sure, it’s funny to you because you weren’t stuck down there. I think you owe me an apology,” he grumbled.

“Alright, alright. I’m sor—”

He pressed a finger over her lips. “Not that,” he said mischievously. “I think you owe me what you bribed me out of the hole with.”

Her eyes widened.

He leaned towards her. “French kiss,” he whispered slowly, his lips just barely brushing hers.

She gasped, starting to pull away from him.

He held her close. “No, no. Only if you want to, Amu,” he added.

She relaxed, hesitated a moment, and then nodded. “I do… I want to…”

He smiled. “Good.”

Then, he tucked his fingers under her chin and lifted her face. For a moment, he stared into her eyes, making sure he wasn’t forcing her into anything. Her eyes were bright and just little afraid, but he saw true desire in her gaze. Once he saw that, he leaned towards her, just close enough that they weren’t quite kissing. He wanted her to close the last centimeter between them. After a moment, feeling his warm breath tickling her lips, Amu relaxed and leaned into him. 

Heat sparked from their connection, surging like fire through her blood. She wondered if Ikuto felt the same. He must have because he gasped softly. His arms circled her small body and she fisted her hands in his shirt, holding him close. She tangled her fingers in his night-dark hair, pulling him eagerly closer and that was when he took the opportunity to gently press his tongue to the seam of her lips. She gasped in surprise, but he didn’t immediately enter her mouth. He waited, licking tenderly at her lower lip, until she dared touch her tongue to his.

Then, he took it as her sign to continue. He delved into her, kissing deeper and deeper. His tongue danced with hers, licking just behind her teeth so that she gasped in shock and pleasure. Then, he coaxed her tongue from her mouth and into his. She was surprised to find that his mouth tasted like… his mouth. She had always read about a taste of cinnamon or strawberries when people kissed, but he just tasted like… Ikuto. Then again, it was only spit.

Eagerly, Amu explored his lips and teeth, finding that the corner of his mouth was deceptively sensitive. When she pressed her tongue there, he shuddered against her, a soft moan escaping his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her closer and closer. His hands tangled in her hair and she rubbed the base of his skull, relishing it as another soft sound escaped him. She was making him feel good, as good as she felt when he touched her. 

Smoothly, they broke apart. Ikuto rested his forehead against her, breathing in the scent of her skin. She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed adorably pink. He smiled as he gazed at her. For a kiss like that, getting stuck had been totally worth it. He would have done it again in a heartbeat. 

“How was it?” he asked.

“It just tasted like… spit,” she whispered.

He wrinkled his brow. “What?”

“When I read about it in romance novels, they always said kisses tasted like something, but that just tasted like… spit,” she explained and then blushed hotly.

Ikuto smiled, stroking her hair back from her face. “You’re such a kid.”

She glared at him. “I am not!” 

Then, she gave him a firm shove that had him tumbling back into the crack between the bed and the wall. He made a great show of thrashing and flailing around and then went still. She heard him grunting and cursing softly, but ignored him. She got under the covers and turned her back to him with a snort.

“Amu,” he whined. “I’m stuck again.”

“No you’re not,” she grumbled. “You moved the bed over a few inches. You have plenty of space.”

Proven to be faking, Ikuto sat up immediately, smirking at the back of her head. “You know me to well.”

“Stupid cat-eared guy,” she grumbled.

“You love this cat-eared guy,” Ikuto teased.

A moment of silence stretched between them. He had expected her to deny it with her usual cool and spicy attitude, but her silence worried him. What if… she didn’t love him? But she had left Tadase and she had just kissed him like that so—

“Ikuto,” she whispered, her voice breaking into his thoughts.

“Y-yeah?” he responded softly, nervously.

“I do,” she whispered. 

“You do?”

She nodded. “I love you…”

He embraced her from behind, burying his face into her neck. “Thank god,” he whispered breathlessly, curving his shoulders around her smaller body like a fortress of bone. She felt a small tremor of relief run though his thin frame and she twined her fingers with his, holding him tightly. And then replied, “I love you too.”

X X X

I was having way too much fun with Ikuto being stuck and it got far too long on me. Oh well, I’ll stop this in one more chapter. Now… run before the lightning strikes me down for lying… again… *flees*

Questions, comments, concerns?

Review!


	5. Becoming Closer Together

ATTENTION EVERYONE! I lied… again… one more chapter. I mean it! I swear! And how about from now on, I just tell you when I’m finished. Just look for the notice that will say… complete!

X X X

Amu’s parents had gone out to see a play with Ami in the next town and trusted Amu to spend the night by herself since she was so cool and spicy. So, Amu had the house to herself and… Ikuto was coming over as well. (He had called earlier to say so since he had been with Utau’s concert over the weekend and had missed Amu dearly.) With no parents to worry about, Amu wondered what would happen between them in the night. She was almost a little afraid to be so alone with Ikuto, but she tossed those thoughts into a deep dark well so they could never climb out again. She knew that Ikuto would rather tear his body to pieces than hurt her again.

It was drizzling lightly outside, the sky a pale grey, but it was lovely weather for a night at home. Amu was bustling around in the kitchen, chara changed with Suu so she wouldn’t ruin dinner. The clover was an uncomfortable shape to wear in her hair, but she wanted to be certain everything would come out perfectly. She stirred the bubbling spaghetti sauce, absently humming as she worked.

“Taste it, desu,” Suu said from inside Amu’s head.

Before Amu had a chance to, there was a soft knock on the front door. Ikuto, she immediately knew and her heart began to pound. She quickly set aside the sauce-covered spoon and hurried to the door, pulling it open. Ikuto was standing there, his hands folded behind his back, his ears and tail clearly visible. Both were drooped extremely low and Amu felt a stone build up in her throat. What had happened? Why did he look so sad?

“Ikuto?” she whispered. Then, she saw his lips twitch and knew he was playing with her, but played along because he clearly had some sort of plan. “What’s wrong?”

He looked up into her face, his dark hair and long eyelashes dewed with mist. “I’m a homeless kitty,” he said, his voice low and soft and deceptively timid. “Will you give me a home?” After a moment’s pause where she wasn’t buying it, he added cutely, “I’ll be a good kitty. Please, nya?”

Amu giggled and opened her arms to him. “Of course.”

He swept her up in a one-armed embrace, spinning her in his arms so that her back was pressed to his chest. Then, suddenly, Amu got a faceful of beautiful red, pink, and white roses, their perfume wrapping around her as sweetly as Ikuto’s arms. He nuzzled into the side of her neck. 

“Then these are for you,” he purred.

Amu fingered the petals, inhaling the mingling scent of their perfume and the natural scent of Ikuto’s body. The roses were just as beautifully dewed as Ikuto’s hair and smelled nearly as good. She smiled, her throat tight with emotion. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you,” she whispered.

Ikuto pressed a kiss to the racing pulse in her throat, then one behind her ear. He wasn’t pressuring her, just showing her his affection, and because of that, Amu turned her head to catch his lips on her own. Even his lips were damp and cool from the rain, but his mouth was so hot in contrast that Amu thought she might melt on contact. With a shudder of pleasure, she turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer and deeper.

When his hot tongue gently touched the seam of her lips, she welcomed him in. Her fingers tangled in his night-dark hair and his hands, still holding the bouquet of roses, pressed against her back until she was nestled flush against him. There wasn’t an inch of space between them and Ikuto seemed to only want to get closer. Amu wouldn’t have minded that either and timidly slipped her hands into the back of his shirt, pressing against his naked flesh. He was cool to the touch.

She pulled away. “Ikuto, you’re freezing,” she scolded. 

“I was out in the rain,” he murmured, burrowing closer to her. “You’re so warm. Just… stay like this.”

She pushed him back sternly. “No. Go take a shower to warm up.”

For a moment, he stared at her with his dark deep eyes as if weighing the next words he was going to speak. Then, he idly tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, cool fingers raising goose bumps on her pale skin. He found the courage to say what he wanted to. “Will you… come with me…?”

She stared at him. Her immediate thought was to tell him ‘No!,’ smack him, call him a ‘pervert,’ and go back to fixing dinner. But Ikuto was still holding those beautiful roses in his long-fingered hands and his eyes were like gemstones. That one moment of hesitation was enough for Ikuto take action.

He pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss and all rational thought left her mind. All she wanted was to be with him and she trusted him wholly and completely. She knew he wouldn’t do anything to her that she didn’t want him to or wasn’t ready for. But, as he kissed her, she had a feeling that he could make her want anything so long as it involved him.

“Yes,” she breathed out when they broke apart.

Ikuto smiled, brushing his nose against hers. 

Suu appeared beside Amu’s head, breaking the chara change. “What about dinner, desu?”

Amu seemed to realize what she had agreed to and her cheeks went hot pink. “Ah—”

“Just turn it off,” Ikuto said to Suu. “Or let it simmer. What is it?”

“Spaghetti sauce, desu,” Suu told him. 

“Then, let it simmer,” he said. He guided Amu into the kitchen, trapping her between his body and the stove as he stirred the sauce. “Can I have a taste?”

Drunk off his closeness, Amu only nodded. 

He lifted the spoon, tasted it, and thrummed deep in his chest in a contented purr. Amu flushed, feeling his happiness so clearly in his body. He really was like a big cat, so warm and soft and purring sometimes when he was happy and it just slipped out.

“Here,” he said. “Have a taste.”

She reached for the spoon, but he stretched it out of her reach. “Ikuto,” she whined. “What are you doing?”

“Kiss me,” he murmured.

Amu stared at his mouth for a long moment. She shape of his lips was so perfect, no longer as chapped as they had been the first time they had kissed. She thought about how she had once told him that she wanted kisses to taste like something. She blushed and he leaned down into her space, his breath tickling her lips. She lifted her chin a little and kissed him deeply. This time, his mouth tasted like spaghetti sauce and she tingled all the way to her toes. It wasn’t what she had expected a kiss to taste like, but it was still wonderful.

When they broke apart, Amu was panting for breath and Ikuto was smiling a little cheekily. 

“I think it needs a little more garlic, don’t you?” he said.

For a full beat, she stared at him. Then, she whispered, “What?”

“The sauce,” he said with a full-on grin. “I think it needs a little more garlic.”

She blinked owlishly and murmured, “Oh… yeah?”

He kissed her cheek. “You’re adorable.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Shut up, you… you—”

He kissed her again, backing her up against the counter. Her small hands were pressed against his chest, her fingers curling in pleasure as he delved into her mouth again. Then, he whispered against her lips, “Now, how about that shower?”

“Oh… yeah…” she breathed.

“Yeah,” he said. 

Then, he swept her up in his arms and carried her carefully up the stairs. Now was not the time for his catlike grace to fail him. He nudged the bathroom door open and set her down on the vanity. Wide-eyed, she looked around the bathroom as if suspecting a psycho killer to be lurking behind the shower curtain and then stared at his face. He noticed she was pale saw the spots of bright color on her cheeks. He tucked her hair behind her ears. 

“If you don’t want to… if you’ve changed your mind…”

She shook her head. “No, I… I’m just a little…”

He kissed her forehead. “I won’t—”

“I know you won’t,” she interrupted. 

He hushed her. “I just… I never want to make you do something you don’t want to do ever again.”

Amu wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. “It’s not that its…”

He patiently listened, but her eyes kept darting around the bathroom.

“You’re… seventeen,” she whispered.

He ran his hands down her arms. “Is it… that I’m so much older than you?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s… aren’t girls your age more…?” she trailed off, unable to say it.

Ikuto smiled softly, pleased that her worry was something so small. Gently, he pulled her body flush against his and stroked her pale hair. “Don’t worry. You’re beautiful,” he murmured. “And no one could ever compare. I love you, Amu, just you… no matter what.”

She blushed. “Thanks,” she whispered.

He smiled and nuzzled into the side of her neck, catlike. “Here,” he whispered and guided her hands to the hem of his shirt. 

She slipped her palms beneath the fabric, eagerly touching the familiar planes of his pale chest. She felt the crooked break of his rib, stroked it gingerly soothed by the familiar place on his body, and hugged him close. For a moment, she just held him, face buried into his chest. He could feel her heart pounding, her fingers trembling faintly. 

“You don’t have to,” he murmured.

She shook her head and slowly began to lift his damp t-shirt. The dark material clung to his thin frame. He lifted his arms and she peeled the shirt off completely. For a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut and held tightly to his shirt, clutching it to her chest like a security blanket. She didn’t want to open her eyes, to see his naked flesh, but she also desperately wanted to. She wanted to see him, to touch him, to feel him. She wanted him to feel as loved as he made her feel.

Ikuto slipped his fingers under her chin, lifting her face. “Look at me, Amu,” he whispered. “Please.”

Her eyes fluttered open and stared into his face for a moment, the blush crawling up her throat and into her face like a rising thermometer. Then, drawn by curiosity, her eyes slid down his torso. A small gasp escaped her lips and she reached out, running har palms over the curvature of his ribcage. Then, a single tear ran down her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, stroking the tear away with his thumb. “Amu?”

She shook her head, trembling hands caressing his sides. “You’re… you’re so thin.”

He laid his hands over hers, staring down at his body. Was he that thin? He had been so worried for her lately that he didn’t care enough about himself, not that he ever had. Plus, the Death Rebel transformation and the cruelty at Easter’s hands had stripped a lot of pounds from his frame, but… what it so noticeable? In the list of things that took up his time, caring for himself was one of the last. If he could keep everyone else safe, he would be alright too—or so he thought. 

Maybe, if he hadn’t been so busy keeping everyone away from him, he wouldn’t have fallen into Easter’s clutches. Maybe they could have saved him from Death Rebel. Maybe they could have saved Amu from him.

But… all that was over and done with. 

And honestly, if all that hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t have this moment with Amu right now.

Amu fit her fingers in the grooves of his ribs, her fingers ghosting down over his flat stomach and the shadows cast by his hips. He was muscled and strong, but those muscles were lean and corded. This went beyond his lithe catlike form. Honestly, there wasn’t an ounce of fat left on Ikuto’s body. How much hell had he been put through? He had to protect his little sister from Easter, had to protect Tadase, had to rescue Amu, had to comfort Yoru, and yet… his body was like this. Did he spend no time on himself?

“Ikuto,” she whispered. “Are you hungry?”

“Later,” he murmured, lifting her hands to his lips and kissing the backs of her knuckles.

“But—” she protested.

“Which would you rather, Amu? I’m either wet or I’m hungry.”

She looked at him, glancing from his damp hair clinging to his face to his thin ribs. She couldn’t decide which was worse, but the cool state of his body was definitely more pressing than his thinness. Dinner could simmer on the back burner and wait a little longer.

“Shower,” she said finally.

Ikuto pressed his lips to her forehead. “Alright.” 

Then, he slipped his hands up the back of her shirt and caressed her bare skin. She shuddered, pressing flush against him as if to hide herself as he lifted the back of her shirt and began to peel it over her head. But, he nuzzled into the side of her neck, cooing sweet nothings, and she relaxed. She timidly lifted her arms and he pulled the shirt off, lying it on the vanity beside his own. 

She was wearing a training bra which was more cute than supportive, but she didn’t even need that. Quickly, she lifted her arms to cover herself, her face hot with embarrassment. Even with what Ikuto had told her, she still felt so inferior to what she knew he must have liked. Tears burned in her eyes.

He hushed her, wrapping his arms around her body and pulling her to his naked chest. She buried her face there, her arms sandwiched protectively between them. He began to hum, his voice just as skilled as his fingers when he played the violin. Soon, Amu’s tears dried and she pulled back to look at him, hesitantly gripping his hips instead of covering her chest.

“Would you feel better if I showed you something on me that’s small?” he offered and then waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Amu’s eyes widened, flashed to his crotch, and then back to his face. “R-really?” she whispered.

He laughed, his head tilting back.

Amu clenched her jaw and gave him a solid punch in the chest. 

“Ow, Amu,” he whined. “I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“Shut up,” she snapped. “You’re a perverted cat-eared guy! Go away!”

He captured her in his arms, holding her tightly even though she could still see him shaking as he tried not to laugh. She elbowed him something fierce, multiple times. Finally, he stumbled back, both hands pressed to his stomach. 

“Ow,” he said and it sounded like there was true hurt in his voice.

Eyes still narrowed, Amu turned to face him. Cautiously, he lifted his hands and looked at his stomach. Sure enough, Amu had caught him just above his hip where the skin was thin and fragile. A dark bruise was already developing. “Ah,” she gasped. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s only a bruise,” he said.

“But—”

“I’d be better if I had a kiss.”

Amu’s lips curved slightly and she closed the small space between them. She pressed her lips to his, her arms wrapping tightly around his torso and holding him close. She felt his fingers stroke her bare back and giggled as his touch tickled. Then, he gently slipped his fingers beneath the back of her training bra and just rested them there. Still kissing him, she nodded. He unfastened the clasp and let the garment slip down her shoulders.

Ikuto was skilled. While Amu lost all rational thought when she was kissing him, his head simply seemed to clear of everything but her. Deepening the kiss to distract her, he moved her arms through the straps, set the training bra aside, and then pulled her flush against him. She broke a kiss, a sort of electric cry escaping her mouth as their bare skin pressed together, chest to chest. 

She glanced down quickly, nervous, but her nudity was covered where he was pressed against him. Then, she met his dark eyes and saw his soft smile and knew this was what love was. He understood her so well, understood that while she wasn’t ready for him to see her, she was ready to feel him. She lifted her head and captured his mouth in a grateful kiss.  
He guided her hands to the waistband of his jeans, prepared to let her take all the time she needed, but he was still damp and the chill had soaked into him. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering, but Amu knew he was cold even so. Maybe it had something to do with the goose bumps that rose all over his body and the trembling shivers that ran through him. 

“You’re cold,” she whispered.

He sighed. “Yeah.”

She hesitated, her fingers hooked in the waist of his jeans. “But I…”

“It’s alright. Take your time.”

She shook her head. “No, Ikuto. You’re cold. Let’s just get in the shower like this.”

“You might have dry clothes, but I don’t,” he murmured.

She bit her lip, thinking. “I can get you some of my dad’s.”

That was reasonable and, though he wanted to shower with her naked more than anything, he was freezing. “Alright,” he relented.

She smiled at him and nervously pulled away, quickly turning her back so he wouldn’t see her naked chest, and started the water. Once it was warm enough, she turned to him slightly, looking over her shoulder. “It’s ready,” she said softly.

“You get in. I want to… do something.”

“What?” she asked.

He hooked his thumb in the waistband of his boxers and hitched them up a little so she could see. “I only brought one pair of boxers, Amu,” he explained. “And if I get in the shower with them, they’ll be soaked. I’m going to take them off and put my jeans back on.”

Amu blushed, nodded, and ducked into the shower.

She’s so cute, Ikuto thought as he quickly switched around his clothing. His dark boxers looked a little funny lying on the vanity beside her frilly pink training bra. He wondered what he looked like holding Amu in his arms. She was so young, so small, and he had five years on her. And now, he was going to get in the shower with her. Could he trust himself with her?

“Ikuto?” Amu called softly, her voice needy. “Where are you?”

“I’m coming,” he said and pulled back the curtain, stepping in behind Amu. 

She had her back to him, her shoulders curved in to shelter her small breasts from his eyes. With a sigh, Ikuto wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head and sighing. After a moment, she relaxed against him, laying her hands over his where they wrapped around her middle. The warm water cascaded over Ikuto’s head and shoulders, raining down on Amu. The warmth slowly seeped into his bones and he felt wonderful, especially to have Amu in his arms.

“I-Ikuto?” she whispered suddenly.

“Hmm?” he murmured.

“I read that… showering together can… bring couples… c-closer.”

“We are showering together,” he said into her hair.

She blushed. “I mean… bathing… each other…”

Any other occasion, Ikuto would have teased her about her embarrassment, but this was an opportunity he couldn’t bear to pass up. She was asking him to touch her, for permission to touch him. It was perfect. So he took the high road and instead reached around her for the bottle of strawberry-scented shampoo on the wall shelf. He squeezed some into his hands and then began to scrub his fingers through her pale rose-colored locks. 

Amu moaned softly, tilting her head back into his hands. If he shifted his gaze just a little, he would be able to see her breasts, but he kept his eyes on the back of her neck. He didn’t want to betray her trust. After he lathered her hair and rinsed the shampoo out, he stroked his fingers through the silky wet strands. Then, he lifted one of her hands, squeezed some shampoo into her palms, and dipped his head. For a moment, Amu hesitated to turn around. 

“My eyes are closed,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips to his forehead and then began to wash his silky hair. She rubbed his scalp, scraping lightly with her nails, and Ikuto let out an indulgent purr. She giggled, scratching behind his sensitive ears and he continued purring. Suddenly, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her towards him and coincidentally pushing his face into the naked flesh just above her breasts. She tensed, but he purred louder, nuzzling into her, and she relaxed.

“Ikuto,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Here,” she whispered and passed him the bar of soap. “W-would you?”

He kissed her collarbone, his tongue lightly tracing her scar. “With pleasure.”

Amu blushed. 

After soaping his hands and setting the bar aside, Ikuto gently began to wash her shoulders and back until she had gotten used to the feel of his hands. He ran his hands down her waist, lightly tickling her sides. Then, he cupped her breasts, his thumbs gently tracing her nipples. She shivered, a soft sound of pleasure escaping her mouth. She had no idea how his touch could be so gentle, so wonderful, as if she was a glass idol and he was worshipping her.

“Here,” she whispered. “Let me…”

She picked up the bar, rubbed it between her fingers, and then set it aside. They were facing each other and as Ikuto pulled back to let her was his chest, there was nothing to obstruct his view of her. Amu blushed, the pink tinge going all the way down to her navel.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

Encouraged, she ran her soapy hands over his shoulders and down his chest. His muscles contracted and shivered under her fingers and she watched goose bumps rise on his skin despite the warm water coursing over him. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her.

“Ikuto… are you… a virgin…?” she whispered.

His eyes went dark and he gently touched her face. “Amu, I raped you.”

“But Death Rebel—” she protested.

He pressed a finger to her lips. 

She wrapped her arms around him tightly, their soapy skin slipping and sliding as he embraced her tightly. He shifted them beneath the warm water, feeling the heat run between them. Amu cuddled into his arms, her small body shaking with sobs. He didn’t know what to tell her. He didn’t understand what she was thinking right now. He didn’t know how she could consider him virginal because he had been forced to rape her, yet she had been deflowered. It was so strange.

“We should get out of the shower,” he whispered. “You’re going to turn into a prune.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Okay.”

He shut off the water and pulled back the curtain, stepping out and slipping on the tile a little. Then, Amu realized she hadn’t grabbed him a towel. Her pink beach towel was hanging on the rack, though, but she didn’t want him to get cold again. Quickly, she grabbed the towel, threw it around Ikuto’s shoulders, and then burrowed into his arms. Like that, they stood, dripping water from the waist down since they were still dressed in their jeans.

Ikuto rubbed her shoulders. “We should get out of these wet clothes, Amu,” he murmured. 

She nodded. “I’ll get you some clothes.” Then, she hastily grabbed her clothes from the vanity and darted to her bedroom, leaving Ikuto to drip in the bathroom. In her room, she realized that she had grabbed his t-shirt by accident. She wasn’t sure what made her put it on instead of her usual tank top. But the scent of Ikuto’s body wrapped around her and she sighed in bliss.

When Amu returned to the bathroom with some of her father’s shorts and a t-shirt for him, Ikuto noticed she was blushing bright pink. Then, he noticed she was wearing his shirt. He grinned, thinking that thought that most boys had—‘she looks good in my clothes.’ He kissed her passionately until she wasn’t even sure what breathing was anymore. Then, with a soft laugh, he reminded her of dinner simmering on the stove downstairs.

…

After eating the dinner Suu and Amu had prepared together with Ikuto’s input, they were snuggled up together in Amu’s bed. She was holding the bouquet of roses he had brought her, her nose buried in the soft petals, facing him. He was gently tracing her face with his fingertips, his touch straying down her throat and following the path of her scar beneath his shirt that she was still wearing. 

“Ikuto?” she whispered suddenly.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Do you ever… think about… being with me?” 

The way she said that, he knew she wanted to know if he thought about having sex with her. Or if he considered her body damaged by what had happened. Was she still desirable, even though he had already taken her virginity? Everyone said that once you had a sex with a boy, he didn’t care about you anymore because he had already gotten what he wanted. And if not, then why was he even still with her? Could he really love her, not just puppy love or hormones? Was something like that possible between them, even though he had offered her his life and told her he loved her. He told her the truth because he always did.

“I do,” he confessed. “I want you very badly, but… you’re too young to be with me like that.”

“But…” Amu whispered. “We’ve already… been together.”

He froze, his fingers stilling on the scar in the valley of her breasts. “That was—” he whispered, but he didn’t have anything to say beyond that. What could he say? That that didn’t count? That is didn’t matter? But it did. It so clearly did. So… “Amu,” he whispered.

She was just staring at him, her golden eyes wide and patient. 

Ikuto decided to change tactics. “Do you think about being with me?” he asked. When she continued to gaze at him, he added, “Again?”

The blush that graced her face spoke volumes. Quickly, she looked away, biting her lower lip

He pressed his nose to her cheek and then kissed the corner of her mouth tenderly. “You do, don’t you? Perverted kid.”

She shoved him, but he grabbed the headboard of the bed before he went tumbling into the crack as he had before. He did not want to get wedged in that crevice again. She heaved at him harder so he wrapped his legs around her and then his arms, trapping her tight against his body. Now, she couldn’t shove him without shoving herself. He chuckled and buried his face in her hair. 

“Ikuto,” she mumbled into his chest. “Can we… can we…?”

“What?” he asked. 

“I want to… be with you.”

He hugged her close. “Amu, are you sure?”

She shook her head. “No, but… I want to be close with you… like we were in the shower today.”

“You mean…”

She blushed. “If it’s not too much for you…” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I know it can be… hard for boys if… if… and I don’t want you to… not that you would, but…” she stuttered.

Ikuto kissed her gently. “Don’t worry,” he murmured. “You’re safe with me.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“How about we just… take off some clothes and cuddle like this?” he suggested.

“That sounds good.”

In the dimness of her room, Ikuto first sat up and peeled off his borrowed shorts and shirt. In his boxers, he turned to Amu. She was sitting up nervously, hands folded in her lap. His fingertips danced across her belly and then lifted the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. Beneath it, Amu’s chest was naked. She lifted her arms easily and then blushed hotly. He nudged her back against the pillows and gently pulled down her pajama pants. Her panties were cute and girlish, making him smile. 

Ikuto in his boxers and Amu in her panties, they got back underneath the covers. For a moment, Amu was too timid to reach out to Ikuto, but he didn’t want to initiate the touches. She was the one who had wanted to be like this with him and he wanted her to come to him. He didn’t have to wait long. After a moment, she snuggled into his embrace, pressed naked chest to chest. His skin was so warm and soft and virtually hairless like a boy Amu’s age. 

She pressed her face into the hollow of his throat, her lips feathering against his pulse. He shuddered in pleasure, his arms tightening around her smaller body. Her fingers wandered his body, flitting over his ribs and flat stomach and even ghosting over the side of his thigh. His body was so thin, but so perfect. She wouldn’t have traded any part of him for the world or even for Tadase. She wasn’t sure when Ikuto had completely taken his place in her heart, but he had.

Her room was filled with the scent of roses where the bouquet was lying on the nightstand in front of the half-open window. Outside, the rain was still falling lightly. Comforted by the sounds of Ikuto’s heartbeat and the light pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof, Amu fell asleep quickly. She really was such a sweet kid. 

“I love you,” Ikuto whispered. “And I always will… no matter what…”

X X X

ATTENTION EVERYONE! I lied… again… one more chapter. I mean it! I swear! How about I just tell you when it’s over, okay? Just look for the notice that will say… complete!

Questions, comments, concerns?


	6. A Night of Dreams

When I started writing this, I thought it would be the final chapter—NOT! You all must be getting sick of hearing that. Who believes me when I say the next chapter will be the last one?

X X X

It was dark in Amu’s bedroom save the moonlight seeping in through the window. The slats of silvery light fell across Amu’s sleeping face and Ikuto was loathe to wake her as he peered in through her balcony door. He wasn’t supposed to stop by tonight, but he hadn’t been able to stay away. He missed her. He hardly remembered the last time he had slept without her in his arms. Now, they commonly slept together in their underwear, naked skin snuggled together lovingly.

But he missed her. He couldn’t sleep well without her at his side. He tried the sliding glass door and found it to be blessedly open. He and Yoru slipped inside, the latter going straight to the small woven basket where Amu’s four guardians slept while Ikuto made his way to Amu’s bed. He toed off his shoes and tucked then under the bed out of sight. Then, he stripped off his shirt and jeans and slipped into the bed beside her in his boxers.

With a small moan, she snuggled automatically into his chest. Ikuto smiled—she was so honest in sleep—and embraced her close. He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in the strawberry scent of her shampoo and the lingering smell of roses. She had dried the roses he had given her and they now lay on her nightstand, filling the room with their lingering perfume. The moonlight felt cool on his face, her body so warm in his arms, and he slipped into sleep.

Ikuto woke around two in the morning to a strange sound. Amu was squirming in his arms, moaning. He cradled her close—she was probably having a nightmare—and studied her face in the dark. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, and there was a small wrinkle between her brows.

“Amu,” he said gently.

She moaned again, her fingers scraping at his naked chest for purchase. As if comforted by his skin, she pressed her palms flat there and nuzzled into him. Her skin was so hot and moist. She moaned again, legs tangling with Ikuto’s. He rubbed her back, hoping to gently bring her out of her nightmare.

“Amu,” he murmured again.

“Ikuto,” she moaned, confirming his worries and suspicions about what was tormenting her sleep. 

She was probably dreaming about the time he, as Death Rebel, had brutally raped her. A small wave of depressed sadness ran through him. It had been a long time since she had had a nightmare and he had thought they were behind her. He thought she was over her nightmares of what had happened, of him.

“Amu,” he said and shook her gently. “Amu, wake up.”

“Ah, Ikuto,” she moaned, but there was something in her voice that wasn’t quite fear. She panted softly.

Suddenly, he wondered what exactly she was dreaming about. Those were not the sounds a girl riddled with nightmares made. She sounded like she was… He shook his head, forcing those thoughts away. That couldn’t be, right? Amu writhed against him, her nails scraping his bare chest lightly as she moaned again. Her bare legs twined with his and then his knee brushed against her crotch. She gasped and shifted her hips, rubbing against his knee, and moaned again. Her cotton panties were soaked and it wasn’t with sweat. 

“Ah, Ikuto,” she moaned again. “Please… h-harder, f-faster… please, Ikuto.”

A pleasurable flush ran through his blood, settling a little too low for him to be sharing Amu’s bed. 

The time she spent squirming and grinding against him, rubbing her soaking panties against his knee for delicious friction, was caught between too long and not long enough. He was worried that if it went on any longer, he would lose himself and start touching her to increase her pleasure. But he so loved hearing her making those little sounds of pleasure and bliss, whimpering his name, and didn’t want that to stop. If he could stay in this moment forever, feeling her body and her desire, hearing her moan out his name…

“Ah, ah, Ikuto,” she panted, moaning softly. “That feels so… so g-good.” 

Then, she cried out softly and he felt her entire body shudder and tremble as an orgasm rocked her small form. Then, panting, she slipped back into deep sleep. Sighing softly, she snuggled into the side of Ikuto’s bare chest, her breath moist and hot on his pale skin. She clung to him, her thighs damp with her own liquid heat and still straddling his knee. He rubbed his knee against her core experimentally and she moaned softly in sleep, so he stopped. He didn’t want to tease her while she was sleeping.

But this… 

This was a window into her heart. 

He wasn’t sure either of them were ready to make that final step and be together wholly and completely, but honestly… it didn’t matter if they were ready. She wanted him and he wanted her. They loved each other with everything they had. And, in reality, they had already been together. 

This time, it would just be perfect and tender and loving. 

He wanted to be with her, share her body, make her his, show her the entirety of his love. He wanted to make love to her in a bed of roses and candlelight, soothed by soft music. He wanted to give her the perfect fantasy to remember forever, to compensate for what he had done. And he would because nothing stopped Tsukiyomi Ikuto once he set his mind to something, not even being wedged in between the bed and the wall, not if it meant doing something to make Amu happy.

…

For the past week, Utau had noticed Ikuto acting a little strangely—well, a lot strangely. He had been acting a little strange since those Guardians had freed him from Easter, but this was out of the norm even for him. He kept milling around in his room, darting and hiding—playing the violin and recording the sounds in the studio he never used, doing something online that he always closed right away when she entered the room, and his cheeks seemed to be constantly pink. 

Finally, Utau couldn’t take it any longer. She leaned sternly against the wall, in the threshold of his bedroom, arms folded across her chest. “Ikuto,” she demanded. “Just what are you doing?”

He blushed guiltily. “Nothing,” he said a little too quickly.

“Really?” Utau asked, narrowing her eyes.

He looked away. “Yeah…”

Then, she crossed the room snatched his laptop and opened the recently closed window. Ikuto let out a loud shout of surprise and lunged for it, snatching it out of her hands, but Utau had already seen the name of the website. “Every Woman’s Fantasy?” she repeated doubtfully. “What on earth are you up to, Ikuto?”

He glowered at her, but his face was so cutely pink that she didn’t even care. 

Her lips pulled in a smile. “Oh? Is all this effort for Amu-chan?”

Ikuto’s cheeks went from pink to red and Utau had her answer.

“It is, isn’t it?” she teased.

“Shut up, Utau,” he grumbled and turned back to his desk.

“Need some help?” she offered because Amu had done a lot to help Utau and she wanted whatever Ikuto was planning to be perfect for her friend.

“No,” he mumbled. “Just… go away.”

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you?” Utau teased.

“Go away, Utau.”

“If you’re trying to make the perfect night for Amu, I’d stop following the cheap Hallmark route.”

Ikuto’s blue eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah, every girl dreams about roses and candlelight, but the fact of the matter is… the rose petals are a pain to clean up, the candles get wax everywhere and go out too easily, and they really don’t do anything for the mood. Afterwards, the room just smells like sex and flowers and smoke and it’s not pleasant.”

For a moment, Ikuto stared at Utau. Then, a hard growl rose up in his throat.

“What?” Utau barked at him.

“I’m going to kill Kuukai,” he hissed.

“Oh, get over it,” she grumbled and crossed her arms. “Just because you have a crush on someone five years younger than you doesn’t mean the rest of us have to wait.”

He sighed heavily. “Alright, fine.”

She smiled at him. “So you want my help?”

Ikuto opened his mouth to snap, ‘No,’ but hesitated. He wanted everything to be perfect for Amu and Utau was not only a girl who was painstakingly romantic at heart (that much was proven by the presence of Eru, ‘The Angel of Love,’ as one of her would-be selves), but she was also Amu’s friend. If anyone could help him make this perfect, it was Utau. So, he swallowed his pride and his modesty and said, “Yeah. That’d be great, Utau.”

…

Amu was sitting in the Royal Garden with the other Guardians. Yaya and Rima sat on either side of her. Tadase used to sit beside her, but he now sat across from her instead—ever since she had told him she didn’t care for him the way he cared for her, they had been distant. She couldn’t even imagine what their friendship would be like if she told him about Ikuto. Nagihiko was sitting beside Rima, calmly sipping tea as she glared holes through the side of his head. (The two of them just didn’t quite get along.) Everyone’s guardian characters were playing in the doll house a few feet away, laughing and chattering.

“It’s been quiet lately,” Nagihiko remarked.

“Ever since we shut down Easter,” Rima added. “There haven’t been many X-Eggs.”

“Probably because we cut Tsukiyomi Ikuto loose from them,” Tadase grumbled. 

“He did cause a lot of problems,” Yaya agreed. “I guess it’s good that he’s free now.”

“That thieving cat,” Tadase continued. “I wonder where he is. We haven’t seen him in a while.”

“Didn’t you use to be close with him?” Nagihiko asked.

Tadase snorted. “Until he betrayed me.”

Ikuto had told Amu the truth awhile ago, in the middle of the night after she had woken with a nightmare. Ikuto hadn’t betrayed Tadase, nor had he killed Betty. (In fact, he had granted the loving dog’s final wish.) He wasn’t really bad luck or a black cat of misfortune. It was just that he had to do bad things to be people around him, to make them hate and despise him, so that Easter wouldn’t use them to hurt him. Ikuto had to be alone so that they would only hurt him—it was bad enough that they had his little sister.

Just as he had cruelly revealed himself to Tadase when Amu had been hiding him in her bedroom and told the Kiddy King that he had heard his entire confession to Amu. That was why Ikuto had mocked him then, teasing him. He had to make Amu hate him so that Easter wouldn’t hurt her or her family to hurt him. Because leaving her home would surely get him captured and tormented again. If they couldn’t get him to do what they wanted, they would use her and her family. So, he made her hate him—never want to see him again so she wouldn’t go looking for him or be seen with him.

She couldn’t bear for Tadase to go on hating Ikuto for something that was out of his control. Just as she had let go of her fear and pain because Ikuto, as Death Rebel, had raped her. It had been beyond his control so how could she hate him? But Tadase didn’t know the truth. His hatred and pain was blind. Ikuto didn’t deserve to be hated.

“That’s not true,” Amu said suddenly, interrupting the quiet chatter of the other Guardians.

They all turned to look at her, surprised.

“What?” Tadase repeated, staring at her with his pale eyes.

Nagihiko, Yaya, and Rima stared at the two of them. They all looked like they wanted to back quietly out the nearest door. Even the guardian characters had fallen silent. Everyone stared, watching, waiting to see what would happen. Amu and Tadase were close allies, trusting each other, but the moment Tsukiyomi Ikuto was mentioned—it was like a brick wall slamming down between them. Tadase hated Ikuto and Amu seemed to regard him as a sort of natural disaster. Yes, he caused them problems, but he didn’t want to and it wasn’t his fault. 

Amu met Tadase’s gaze, sincere and unwavering. Since her heart didn’t start beating a million miles an hour when she looked at him anymore, she was able to keep her cool persona in place. “Ikuto didn’t betray you,” she told him firmly.

Tadase let out a cold humorless laugh. “And what would you know about Tsukiyomi Ikuto, Amu-chan?” 

She narrowed her eyes. “Ikuto is probably one of the gentlest people in this world. If he could help it, he would never hurt anyone.”

“But he does,” Tadase hissed. “He hurts people all the time. He breaks Hearts’ Eggs, he’s trying to get the Embryo, and he’s working for Easter. He’s not a good person.”

“He doesn’t want to do any of those things. That’s not the person he wants to be,” she cut herself off. “That’s not the person he is, Tadase-kun.”

Tadase stared at her hard for a moment. “Why do you think you know about him, Amu-chan?” he said coldly, bitterly. “He’s a monster.”

“Because…” A tear slipped down her cheek and her heart pounded raggedly. “He never meant to hurt you, Tadase-kun. He never meant to hurt anyone.”

They stared at her as she wiped her cheek and smiled slightly.

“Ikuto is…” she whispered, “so selfless. He’s also so kind and so sweet. He’s a wonderful person. He’d tear himself to pieces to protect someone he cares about. He loves so much that I’m afraid his heart is going to be destroyed because you hate him so much, so blindly. He hated Easter—god, Tadase-kun. They used to beat him after he helped us. And then, Death Rebel…” her voice cracked as she sobbed, “You have no idea what he’s been through to protect the people he cares about. He’s been alone for so long.”

Tadase was silent, his face pale. He looked caught between wanting to believe, anger because Amu was once again defending the enemy, and disbelief. 

“Amu-chan?” Rima whispered.

“Amu-chi…” Yaya murmured.

Finally, Nagihiko asked, “How do you know all this?”

For a moment, Amu hesitated, the truth on the tip of her tongue. Then, she confessed, “I’m in love with him.” Her heart swelled as she let those words out, like a bird being freed from its cage. She was tired of hiding, tired of Tadase not understanding Ikuto’s pain, tired of Ikuto being on the outside looking in all the time, alone. She would never tell her friends that he had raped her, but she would tell them the rest. And so, her inner radiance lending her strength, she told them nearly everything Ikuto had told her.

It was time everyone knew the truth about Tsukiyomi Ikuto.

When she finished, they were quiet for a long time. No one spoke. Then, his handsome face wearing some strange unnamable expression, Tadase rose from his chair, took off his guardian cape, and left the garden. Kiseki streaked after him, but still, no one said anything. 

Amu stared out the glass walls of the Royal Garden at the buttery day beyond and smiled softly, imagining Ikuto’s pale face curving with a smile as he was forgiven. She knew Tadase would forgive him. He was nothing if not almost as kind as Ikuto was. But, even so, she excused herself and followed at a distance, leaving Rima, Yaya, and Nagihiko in shock.

…

Ikuto was sitting in the park, his violin case lying on the bench beside him and Yoru resting on his shoulder, purring loudly in his ear. The little cat was such a comfort to him, the little body warm and vibrating. Yoru was Ikuto’s best friend, having been with him through everything horrible and wonderful in his life. He petted Yoru softly, making the little creature purr more and louder. He smiled. Ikuto was waiting for Amu to walk by on her way home from school so he could pounce on and surprise her, but it was just as well that he was there that afternoon. 

Tadase walked by, his head ducked, staring at the screen of his phone. After a moment, he stopped walking and pressed the phone to his ear, calling someone.

Ikuto was so busy watching him—wishing that he could talk to Tadase, to tell him the truth and eat ice cream with him and hear him say ‘Ikuto-nii-san’ again—that he jumped when his own cell phone rang a second later. Tadase turned, looking out the location of the ringing phone and his eyes fell on Ikuto just as the older boy peered at the caller ID. Tadase was calling him. Abruptly, Tadase hung up and walked purposefully over to Ikuto, Kiseki buzzing around his head.

Tadase stopped a few feet away, his pale eyes blazing.

“Uh, yo,” Ikuto offered the boy who had once been his little brother.

“You did it on purpose,” Tadase said coolly, his hands clenching into fists. “You did it all on purpose!”

Ikuto stared at him, uncertain of what Tadase was talking about. Well, he had an idea, but he wasn’t sure. It was best to just be quiet at times like this—to wait, to watch, and most of all, to listen.

“How could you?” Tadase asked, his pale red eyes welling with tears. “Why would you do that? Ikuto-nii-san, why…?”

Immediately, Ikuto’s heart skipped a beat, stuttering in shock inside his chest. How long had it been since Tadase had called him nii-san? Too long, of that Ikuto was certain and for him to say it now… “Amu told you everything, didn’t she?” he breathed. 

Tadase nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I… couldn’t…” he whispered.

“Didn’t you trust me?” Tadase asked, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wiped them quickly, trying to appear strong.

“I just…” Ikuto murmured, “I couldn’t get you involved with me. I couldn’t let you be involved with me.”

“But—”

“It wasn’t safe. I had to protect you.”

“I’m not a child anymore,” Tadase said firmly as a single tear slid down his cheek and he swiped at it, leaving a hard red streak on his cheek.

Ikuto smiled, reminded of Utau. “I know,” he murmured.

For a moment, the two young men just stared at each other. Ikuto wanted to hug his adoptive little brother, feel the familial love he had missed while Easter had been busy eating up his childhood and making him grow up far too fast, but he wasn’t sure if Tadase was ready for that long-forgotten and even hated embrace. 

Tadase looked like he had no idea what he wanted to do. He had just told Ikuto he wasn’t a child, but here he was crying and trembling with emotion. Finally, Ikuto made the first move. He rose from the bench and hugged Tadase tightly, rubbing the boy’s thin quivering back. With a sob, Tadase fell into his big brother and squeezed him tight, unwilling to ever let go again. 

The past had been hard on both of them, but so much harder on Ikuto. Tadase had never realized why Ikuto had done the things he did and he had hated him for it. God, if only he had just tried to understand Ikuto a little better, none of this would have happened. If Ikuto hadn’t tried to take the weight of the world on his slender shoulders, none of this would have happened. If only Easter didn’t exist to torment and torture and use him as a worthless pawn on a chessboard. Poor Ikuto’s glass heart, his gentle heart, and his soft touch…

Tadase sobbed raggedly.

“I’m sorry,” Ikuto whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Amu had followed Tadase, just in case, just to make sure even though she knew he was kind and gentle, a caring king who watched over everyone he cared about. Now, she smiled to herself, leaning against a nearby tree, safely out of sight of the two boys though she was certain Yoru could probably smell her. Sure enough, a few moments later, the little blue cat flew over to her, tears gathered in the corners of his golden eyes. Wordlessly, he snuggled into her cheek and purred and it was the best ‘thank you, nya’ Amu had ever heard in her life. Then, Yoru returned to Ikuto’s side, hugging Kiseki lightly.

With this, all was right in their small world—as perfect as real life could possibly be. Because honestly, life and love was nothing like a romance novel—it was harder, it was harder to understand, and it was so much better than anything some dumb writer could ever imagine.

…

Ikuto was lying on Amu’s bed like he belonged there (and he kind of did) when she walked into her room swathed in her polka-dotted wrap and drinking milk. He was lying on his back, petting Yoru absently, his face smooth and happy, lips curved in a faint smile. Amu had watched him and Tadase in the park for a little while and then left them alone for the remainder of the afternoon, heading home. Last she had seen, Ikuto had bought them both ice cream, just like the good old days.

Amu moved through her room, taking a t-shirt and some clean panties from her dresser. Since Ikuto was dreamily staring at the ceiling, she changed carefully in the room with him. (It was an easy matter to pull her panties on beneath her wrap, pull the t-shirt on over it, and then take it off beneath her clothes.) She hung the damp wrap on the back of her door and came to sit beside Ikuto, flopping down beside him with her head resting on his stomach. 

He moved his fingers from Yoru’s soft fur to Amu’s pale hair, stroking her as well. His touch felt so good, absently scratching her scalp just like someone usually petted a cat. If she could have, she would have purred. She was nearly asleep when Ikuto softly spoke, twisting her hair around his long fingers.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” she asked dreamily. 

“For telling Tadase the truth. I… I missed him.”

She smiled, rolling over and shifting her body so she could spoon against Ikuto’s side. “You don’t deserve to be hated.”

“Not even by you?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. “I could never hate you.”

He was quiet a moment and then whispered, “Did I ever apologize?”

“You don’t have to,” she said. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Not for that. For… everything else I did to make you hate me, for hurting you so you wouldn’t follow me…”

She nestled against him, relishing his embrace as he pulled her closer. “You don’t have to. You never have to,” she whispered.

He rolled over, wrapping her tightly in his arms, slipping his hands beneath her shirt to feel her naked skin. She shivered in pleasure, sliding her fingers under his shirt as well. He was her everything and she was his. They understood each other like nothing else in the world. This… this was heaven on earth.

“So,” Ikuto said suddenly, his voice a little playful. “I never have to apologize?”

She pinched him. “If you do something stupid, you do.”

“Aw,” he whined, nuzzling into her neck.

“Perverted cat-eared guy,” she whispered, but that was her way of saying, ‘I love you.’

He smiled, kissing her pulse and feeling her tremble with pleasure. 

Then, she peeled off his t-shirt, laying her hands on his bare chest over his heart and the break in his ribcage. He kissed her, dipping his tongue into her mouth, and pulled her t-shirt off as well, tucking it under the pillow. He caressed her skin, her small breasts, her pert nipples, and kissed her with all the passion, love, and gratitude in his body. Amu—she had given him everything and what he loved was that she didn’t have to. She did it just… because.

Because she cared about him.

…

Suddenly, Amu woke in the night, panting and hot. For a while now, her nightmares had been less nightmares and more like dreams—dreams she hoped would soon become reality. She had been dreaming about Ikuto, about making love with him, about his lips and fingers, about a part of him that made her blush hotly. She sucked in some air, her core tingling and beating like a second heart, and her entire body felt weak and shivery. She sighed softly, blissfully, and rolled over to snuggle deeper into Ikuto’s embrace.  
Then, she saw Ikuto’s bright sapphire eyes shining in the darkness as if filled with starlight. 

Immediately, her flush turned into a red-hot blush and her skin prickled with goose bumps. He had been awake, watching her, listening to her. He must have known what she was dreaming about! Oh god—! She opened her mouth to try to explain herself, but he gently kissed her and stole all her breath away. She stared at him, shocked, and he just smiled a little mysteriously. Then, he leaned in again and her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation. 

His kiss was gentle, his lips moving slowly and tenderly as if her entire body was made of porcelain. His fingertips danced down her side, tenderly stroking the sides of her small breasts. She shivered, a soft sound of pleasure escaping against his mouth. His thumbs ghosted over her nipples, trailed down her bare stomach, and then cupped her gently through her panties. She gasped, arching against him, but he gently kissed her, pulling her back against his bare chest.

She broke the kiss, burying her face into his throat and panting softly. Her nails scraped his chest, raising goose bumps on his skin. She was so wet, positively soaked, and he wondered how he could possibly mean so much to her. He stroked her through her panties, the friction of the damp cloth making her pant hotly against his throat. He felt her teeth scrape his collarbone to muffle a soft cry that escaped as he pressed on her clit. 

He slipped the panties aside a little, dipping his fingers against her naked core. She shuddered in his arms, her thighs quivering. She seemed uncertain of whether to spread her legs wider to grant him more access or squeeze them closed in embarrassment. He rubbed her clit softly and the decision was made for her, her thighs opening like the petals of a flesh flower. She moaned softly, something that might have once been his name. He smiled, kissing the sensitive skin just beneath her ear and making her moan again.

Then, he found her damp opening and pushed one finger inside her. Her back arched again, muscles quivering, but she was so wet that there was no pain. He curled his finger, stroking the sensitive place just inside her while his thumb remained on her pearl. She writhed against him, her lips fervently kissing his throat and collarbones. He added a second finger, stretching and filling her small body, and thrust lightly. She clenched him close, panting in rhythm with his fingers as they moved inside her.

With his free hand, he guided her lips to his and kissed her deeply as his fingers sent her to heaven. When she moaned softly, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, teasing hers until she rose to meet him. Then, her orgasm rocked her over-sensitive body so suddenly that her teeth nearly snapped down on his lower lip. She buried her face in his chest, panting desperately, as the quivers of pleasure washed through her small form. He licked his fingers daintily, nose wrinkling slightly.

Ikuto smiled to himself, proud. He was capable of giving her an orgasm, technically multiple if he got credit in her dream.

Amu lay against him, shivering and panting, her skin burning with pleasure. Finally, she rode out the final wave and breathed deeply, sighing.

For a moment, they were silent, cuddled close in her bed in their underwear. At least she had been quiet enough that he parents hadn’t felt the need to come in and check on her, if they had heard anything at all. Then, suddenly, Amu ran her hand down his naked chest and over a hard bulge in his boxers. Ikuto jolted in surprise, squeezing his erection between his thighs to hide it from her. 

“Amu,” he gasped.

She gazed at him, her golden eyes bright. “This is what happens to boys?” she murmured.

He nodded, his eyes on her face, waiting to see what she was going to do next.

“Can I… can I touch it?” she whispered. His eyes must have widened in shock because she said softly, “Please?”

Jerkily, he nodded and tried to relax as her small hand crept down his chest and timidly stroked him through his boxers. Her touch was so different, so strange, from how it felt when he touched himself. Her hand was soft, light, almost like a tease, and he groaned.

“Am I hurting you?” she whispered. 

“No,” he said. “I… I like it a little rough.”

He could see her cheeks glowing with a blush even in the darkness and chuckled. She clenched her jaw—so he’d laugh at her, would he?—and squeezed his hard member firmly (though still too achingly softly for Ikuto’s preferences). He wrapped his arm around her back, crushing her close against his bare chest, and softly moaned against the shell of her ear. Gratified, Amu experimentally ran her fingers over the fabric and then felt a slit, beyond that hot hard flesh. 

Curious, she slipped her hand into the slit and felt him in his entirety. His skin was hot, incredibly soft sheathed over something nearly as hard as stone, and slightly sticky. It was strange, but pleasant, beating softly beneath the skin. She ran her hand over him from base to tip, feeling the change in the soft mushroomed head of him. He seemed so sensitive there, shivering as she ghosted her fingers over him. She ran her fingers back down, squeezing gently.

“A-Amu,” he gasped. “You’re killing me.”

“I’m sorry?” she asked, caught between apologizing and confusion.

“Grab a tissue off your nightstand,” he said. 

She released him, rolling over to grab a tissue from the box, and handed it to him. “Here,” she murmured.

“Great.”

Then, he guided her hand back to his member, wrapping the tissue over the head of himself. He laid his fingers over hers, squeezing her hand so tight that she thought it must have been painful for him, and began to move her hand at a quick jerking pace. Her skin burned with the heat of him and the friction, showing her how to squeeze hard at the base and gently at the tip. He groaned softly, his lips claiming hers, and then a shudder ran through him. His fingers twitched and curled, shivering slightly. 

Then, Amu felt the tissue grow sodden and sticky. She pulled her hand away, gazing into Ikuto’s face as he panted hard and leaned over her small form to drop the tissue in the trash. He shuffled himself, wincing at the sensitivity leftover from his orgasm. Then, he wrapped her warm body in his arms and pulled her close, kissing her temple and her forehead. For a moment, silence spread between them, broken only by Ikuto’s soft and ragged breathing. Amu stroked the side of his chest, her fingers dancing over the smooth skin.

“Ikuto?” she whispered though unsure of what exactly she was going to ask him.

But he had already fallen asleep, breathing lightly on the side of her neck. 

She smiled, snuggled against him, and closed her eyes as well. 

Peacefully, she slept in the arms of her love, glowing with the after effects of their shared orgasms. It felt as if they had made love, as if they had been that close, and she was suddenly very eager for the moment that they really would be. She loved Ikuto and that would never change.

X X X

So, who believes me when I say the next chapter will be the last one?

Questions, comments, concerns?

Y’all review now!


	7. Roses Bloom with Love

Alright, tied it off (FINALLY) at seven chapters. Think of it as Seven Minutes in Heaven… 

And to everyone who didn’t believe me—go jump in the lake! I hope a big trout bites your toe! To those of you who did believe me—I love you all (like four of you…) and this chapter is dedicated to you!

X X X

About a week later, Amu’s parents were going on an overnight trip with Ami and Ikuto was coming over to spend the night. Around lunch time that day, he almost forcefully sent Amu out shopping with Utau and slammed the door behind her. Amu didn’t know what he was planning, but she was excited. She couldn’t even keep her mind on what Utau was saying and Utau noticed her wandering mind. (Sadly, no matter how excited Amu was, Utau was not the kind of person who took being ignored kindly and she had a devil’s temper, revealed by Iru as her other would-be-self.)

“Amu!” Utau barked. “Would you get your head out of Cloud Nine?”

“Hmm?” Amu murmured, staring blankly ahead.

Utau smacked her in the back of the head with a bag of clothes.

“Oww!” Amu whined, rubbing the back of her head. “What was that for?”

“For ignoring me,” Utau snapped. 

“Sorry, I just… I’m so excited. What do you think Ikuto is planning?”

“I know I don’t want to know,” Utau said with a snort. 

“You know, don’t you?” Amu wheedled. “Tell me!”

“And ruin the surprise?” Utau said, folding her arms over her breasts. “I can’t believe you’d ruin all Ikuto’s hard work, you heartless little girl.”

Amu blushed.

“Just let him surprise you,” Utau said and pushed Amu into an outlet store, immediately making her way into a section of sexy shoes. “Help me pick something out. I’m meeting Kuukai after this.”

Amu browsed through the racks of high heels and then whispered to Utau. “W-what’s it like…?”

Utau lifted one pale brow, staring at Amu.

The younger girl stuttered, blushing, “I mean… have you and Kuukai…?”

“Have you and my brother?” Utau asked plainly. 

Amu flushed, embarrassed and a little uncertain. Ikuto had raped her, but… “N-not really,” she whispered.

Utau eyed her a moment, but then tossed some blonde hair over her shoulder huffily. “Well, I’m not going to ruin it for you,” she said flatly. “How about these?” she held up a pair of shiny black heels that literally screamed, ‘Come fuck me!’

“I don’t know, Utau,” Amu said delicately. “You might break your ankle.”

Utau shoved them back on the rack. “Fine, let’s shop then,” she said even though she knew Amu’s mind was back on Cloud Nine and not listening to a word the teen idol was saying. She sighed, mentally cursed Ikuto, and told him to hurry up. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up this ruse.

…

But Utau proved surprisingly resilient (if not patient and tolerant, two things she was certainly not known for being) and held out all day, bringing Amu home at the agreed-upon time. She had even managed not to strangle the dreamy young girl, though not by much.

Ikuto had finished his preparations with about ten minutes to spare and quickly went to change his clothes, putting on a deep indigo button-down shirt and black jeans but leaving himself barefoot. After a moment of debate, he unfastened all the buttons on his shirt and let it fall open. Then, he buttoned back up again, nervously, and finally settled on unbuttoning about half of it. Then, he looped a silken ribbon-like tie around his neck and left it untied. (1) At last, he was ready for the moment Amu came home, her sweet voice ringing out through the empty house. When he didn’t answer, he knew she’d begin to wander and therefore find his surprise and then him.

…

When Amu unlocked her front door, Utau was gone by the time she turned around to bid the young singer goodbye. The poor girl was probably relieved to be away from Amu since she hadn’t been very good company all day—what with her head in the clouds and all. Amu set down the bag with her single purchase, toed off her sandals, and hung up her light jacket. 

“Ikuto?” she called.

Somewhere in the house, she could hear mystically soft violin music. She padded into the kitchen, looking around. The kitchen was deserted save a covered dish with a small note that said, ‘Bring me upstairs if you’re hungry.’ She delicately lifted the silver lid and gasped as the beautiful spread of freshly-cut fruits. Smiling, she slipped a sugared strawberry into her mouth and lowered the lid again.

“Ikuto?”

He didn’t answer so Amu wandered from the kitchen without bringing the dish. She was too excited to eat. Suddenly, her bare feet tread on something soft. She looked down and found a beautiful (and now slightly lopsided since Amu was standing in it) heart made out of rich red rose petals. There were a few loose petals forming a swirling arrow pointing towards the stairs. 

“Ikuto?”

At the top of the stairs, Amu could see the glow of candlelight and the music was louder. She set her hand on the railing and climbed the stairs daintily, her heart pounding eagerly in her chest. There were a few more hearts made of rose petals in the hallway, guiding her down the hall to her bedroom. She hesitated at the door, her body feeling hot and tingling.

“Ikuto?” she called one final time.

He still didn’t answer. 

She opened her bedroom door, holding her breath. Then, she gasped in amazement. There was beautiful pink, red, and white roses spread all over the bed (not petals since Ikuto agreed with Utau and figured they would make a big mess). Small candles inside colored glass vases were set all around the room, painting the walls with beautiful colors. The window was cracked open, letting in a soft breeze though the sheer curtains had been pulled protectively closed. Soft sweet violin music floated from somewhere, filling the room. 

Lying on the bed amongst the roses and candlelight was a modest indigo tank top with a black ribbon looped around the wide neck and tied in a lovely bow above the breasts. Folded neatly beside the top was a pair of loose-fitting Capri pants of soft matching black silk. (Utau had helped Ikuto pick them to match his clothes.) Amu smiled, her cheeks burning pink with joy and a little embarrassment. She stripped out of her day clothes and dressed in the clothes Ikuto had laid out for her. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, blushing hotter. 

Between the room and the modest lingerie, Amu had never seen anything so beautiful in her entire life, except maybe Ikuto.

The only thing missing from this perfect fantasy was…

“Ikuto?” she called softly.

She peeked in the crack between the bed and the wall, but he wasn’t there. She looked in the closet since he commonly hid in there also, but that was empty—though his violin was tucked in neatly so she knew he was here somewhere. She looked under the bed and then sat down on the mattress. Where could he be? Where hadn’t she looked?

Right—the balcony…

Amu parted the sheer frothy curtains over her sliding glass balcony doors, slid the door open, and stepped out onto the balcony. Sure enough, Ikuto was standing there, leaning against the railing casually and staring out over the city as if oblivious to her presence. But Amu knew he had been eagerly waiting for her because there were two delicate wineglasses filled with sparkling bubbling liquid. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his back with a soft sigh.

His fingertips ghosted over her bare forearm, prying a shiver of pleasure from her small body. It was amazing how the smallest touch, the barest smile, the softest word, and the lightest glace made her feel so… purely and completely and totally undeniable irrevocably in love with him. She thought her body would just sprout wings and fly away to heaven without her. Ikuto made her feel… loved and worshipped and protected and cared for—like she was special, like she was herself. He loved her for her and no one else.

“Do you like it?” he breathed out.

She nodded into his back, her hands running down his chest and feeling his naked skin. She sighed, blissfully running her fingers down the muscles of his torso. Then it was his turn to shiver in pleasure. Gently, he pulled her around and held her in his arms between the balcony railing and his body. She reclined against his chest, completely trusting.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

He smiled, dipping his face into her hair and breathing in the scent of her. “I’m glad,” he murmured. “Here.” He lifted one of the wineglasses and pressed it to her hand.

“I’m too young to drink,” she reminded him.

He kissed the back of her neck. “It’s sparkling cider, virgin (2).”

She blushed, feeling as if that word both pertained to the drink and to her. Ikuto was so sweet.

“Just drink it,” he whispered, nuzzling her neck. “For me?”

“O-okay.” Amu lifted the glass to her lips and something clinked against the glass. She practically crossed her eyes peering into the depths of the crystal wineglass, seeking out the strange sound that a drink shouldn’t have made. From the outside, she hadn’t been able to see it, but now… it was like a flashing neon sign. There was a beautiful ring lying in the bottom of the glass. She carefully and quickly drank the small amount of cider and pulled the ring out. “Ikuto, what—?”

“It’s a promise ring,” he murmured, resting his chin on her shoulder.

She stared at it, awed. It was so beautiful—a pure silver band with two small heart-shaped gems in pale ruby and pale sapphire intertwined in a lovely embrace. The interior of the band had been engraved with the simple words, ‘My Love.’ In its simplicity, it was the most beautiful thing Amu had ever seen, but her hands were shaking so badly that she couldn’t put it on.

“Let me,” Ikuto whispered and gently took her hands. He pressed a small kiss to the ring finger of her left hand before sliding the ring gently on and then threading their fingers together. “Do you like it?”

She nodded, her eyes filling with happy tears. “Oh, yes, Ikuto,” she whispered and threw her arms around him. “It’s beautiful. It’s all so beautiful.”

As one, he lowered his chin and she lifted hers. The kiss was perfect, starting out chaste but growing deeper and more passionate. Ikuto gathered her up in his arms, holding her tightly and still kissing her as he carried her into the bedroom through the frothy white curtains. He laid her on the bed amongst the roses, their kiss still connecting them. Amu wrapped her legs around his narrow waist and felt his desire bump hot and hard against her core. A strange shock of hot pleasure ran through her body and she moaned softly into his mouth. 

With swift familiarity, they undressed each other from the waist up. His shirt was so soft and silky beneath her fingers, the ends of the ribbon around his shoulders tickling her upturned face. Amu ran her hands down Ikuto’s naked chest, feeling the familiar contours and muscles that she so loved. He wasn’t so thin anymore nor as ghost-pale as he had been as Easter’s prisoner, but the old scars and breaks still littered his porcelain flesh. She was sad for him and gently pressed her lips to the break below his heart. 

“I love this,” she whispered.

“Thanks,” he murmured, thinking she meant his shirt. “Do you like your clothes?”

She nodded, smiling. “Of course.”

“Good.” He pressed a kiss to her throat. “You look beautiful.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair, but lifted his hands to her small breasts. “Don’t tease me, Ikuto,” she murmured.

He kissed her lips gently. “Would I do that?” he asked.

She glowered at him and opened her mouth to snap, ‘Of course.’

But he cupped her hot sex and she lost every rational thought in her mind. A soft cry of pleasure escaped her lips, her head tilting back so that Ikuto nipped her exposed throat. His breath was so hot, his fingers moving so strangely, and she thought her entire body and soul was going to melt into him.

“Does it feel good?” he asked.

“Don’t stop,” was all she said, panting.

He smiled into her smooth velvet skin, tugging down the silken pants she wore. Her panties were cute cotton ones, decorated with little cupcakes and cherries. He had never seen her body completely naked before save that glimpse he had caught a little while ago when her towel had fallen. He didn’t know if she was ready, but her face was flushed and she softly whispered, ‘Please,’ so he hooked his fingers in her panties and slid them down. 

She was smooth and virtually hairless, as white as milk save the very core of her which was flushed with blood and glistening with moisture. She was like a half-opened young flower, dewed with moisture in the morning light. She moaned softly as Ikuto touched her naked sex. She was hot and so wet in his hand, against his fingers. Her mouth sought out his and kissed him fiercely, love and desperation and pleasure poured into him.

Amu moaned. This felt even better now than it had when they had touched each other after her heated dream. He was more experienced now, knowing exactly what she liked and how to tease her. Ikuto’s fingers were so quick, so light, ghosting over her sensitive clit until she was ready to beg him to just touch her. There was no fear left in her mind now, nothing but desire and love. This was not Death Rebel. This was Ikuto. He loved her and he would never hurt her again. And honestly, she wanted to be with him like adults were.

“Please,” she whispered and slipped her fingers into the waistband of his black jeans.

“Impatient, aren’t we?” he teased.

She yanked, pulling his hips to hers. The friction of his hardness beneath the rough jeans against her naked core nearly made her scream in bliss. He felt so good, like heaven on earth. Ikuto thrust lightly, rubbing against her clit until she had lost all connections with her mind. He shimmied out of his pants and boxers and for a moment, Amu just stared at him. When she had wrapped her fingers around him before, she hadn’t been paying close attention, but now that she saw him in all his glory… 

“Y-you’re huge,” she whispered. “I thought you said you were little…”

“I fibbed,” he confessed. Then, Ikuto gazed at her, weighing her expression. “If you don’t want to…”

She shook her head. “No, I want to! It’s just… I don’t know if that will fit inside of me…”

Ikuto kissed her gently. “We’ll take it slow. I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded. “I know.”

From the nightstand, he produced a condom and tore the foil, rolling it down his length gently. Amu looked away, flushed with embarrassment. But then he leaned over her and his bare chest brushed her nipples and she gasped out in pleasure. His hot erection bumped against her core, pressing lightly. Then, something significantly slimmer slipped inside her and she yelped, arching her back in bliss. His fingers… he began to work her with his fingers, teasing and spreading her juices. 

It felt so good, her body was melting into a puddle, but…

It wasn’t enough. Even though it felt so good, it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be with him, utterly. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him to her for a kiss and lifted her hips, rubbing his erection through her moist folds. Ikuto hesitated a moment, uncertain, but there was no stopping now. She was soaking wet and he had done his best to stretch her slightly. Besides, he had raped her so brutally—first with the Heart Rod and then himself—that there was probably nothing left of her hymen to tear through.  
His heart throbbed, the cracks revealing themselves.

“Ikuto,” she pleaded.

But he didn’t enter her, not yet.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed her gently, focusing all his love on that single connection, until she had nearly forgotten the pleasure in her body just for the feeling of his lips. Then, he broke the kiss and stared into Amu’s face. Her eyes glowed like gold coins in the dark, Ikuto’s were like a spread of starlit night. 

“Amu,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ready?” he asked softly.

She nodded, holding his gaze.

“Amu,” he said again.

“Yeah?”

“This is me,” he swallowed, “taking your virginity.”

A single tear welled in her eyes and she nodded, a smile pulling up her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Then, with a swift hard jerk of his hips, he filled her small body to the hilt. For a moment, her small nails raked into his shoulders as her back arched off the rose-covered mattress, but she didn’t cry out in anything resembling pain. Instead, the only sound she made was a soft moan of pleasure that might have once been his name. 

Ikuto felt the same, his limit approaching far faster than he would have liked. Her body was so tight and hot, wonderful, and he wished he could just stay like this forever, inside her, connected. If it wasn’t for the condom dulling some of the sensations, he might have exploded then and there. He kissed her lips gently and she responded eagerly, wrapping her arms around his naked back and pulling him closer.

“Ikuto,” she moaned. “P-please, move.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

With his thrusts slow and deep, he began to move. She threw her head back into the pillows, long-stemmed roses tangling in her pale rosette locks. She clung to his body like he was her anchor, panting. He slid out of her nearly to the tip and then pushed in hard, the head of him pressing against her womb. A cry of pleasure escaped her along with a whoosh of breath. Again, he filled her, playing her body as expertly as he played the violin.

When she pleaded with him to go faster, he obliged. He lifted her hips a few inches off the bed, slipped his arms behind her back to cradle her, and then set a fast pace that wouldn’t allow her to catch her breath. She clung to him, gasping, and wrapped her lean legs tightly around his narrow hips. If she pulled him any closer, they were going to merge into the same body. Suddenly, Ikuto got an idea, especially since if he kept this up, he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

He pressed her to his chest, supported his weight with one arm, and rolled them both over so that he was pinned on the bottom and she was on top. Remarkably, he was still sheathed inside her. The new angle made Amu moan and rake her nails across his chest. He was so deep inside, stretching and filling her so completely that she didn’t think there’d ever be room for herself inside her body again. Experimentally, she rolled her hips and lifted herself before sliding back down his shaft.

He reached for her hand and intertwined their fingers, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. His free hand coiled around her waist and helped her set a pace, impaling herself over and over in a state of bliss. She threw her head back, her small breasts like ripe peaches. A bead of sweat ran down the scar on her chest where Death Rebel had torn her with the scythe. Ikuto pressed his lips there, prying a shiver from her, and then licked lightly.

She moaned and ran her free hand down her body to her pearl. She just needed a little more stimulation. There was a hot coil in her belly that was winding tighter and tighter, burning hot with Ikuto’s touches. When he saw her finger begin to pinch and stroke her clit, he quickly replaced them with his own. She gasped, her movement stilling. Ikuto helped her rise up onto her knees a little and took over. Between the clitoral stimulation and his deep thrusts, Amu’s orgasm was sudden and rocking. 

She practically screamed his name as her muscles clenched down hard on him, her entire body trembling. Easily, that brought him over the edge, his own orgasm just as powerful.  
Amu collapsed down on his chest, panting loudly, still holding his hand tightly. She could feel him softening inside her, twitching slightly as his seed emptied into the reservoir of the condom. He ran his hands down her back, absently stroking her hair and bare skin. Flushed, Amu was suddenly aware of the coolness of the room and the heat of Ikuto’s body. She shivered.

“Let’s jump in the shower quick,” he murmured.

She nodded into his neck.

Gently, Ikuto sat up and cradled her in his arms like she was a new bride. In the bathroom, he had already drawn a bath and sprinkled the surface of the water with rose petals. Candles were spread all over the room, setting a beautiful ambiance. But he didn’t immediately place her in the tub. Instead, he got them both into the shower and rinsed the sweat from their bodies. His hands worshipped her as he delicately bathed her all over, even her over-sensitive cavern. Then, he swiftly washed himself, peeling off the condom.  
He stepped from the shower, dripping, with her in his arms and was careful not to slip on the wet tiles. Then, he stepped into the warm tub and sank down, holding her in his lap. 

She reclined against his chest, snuggling against him happily. She sought out his hand and held it, tracing the calluses on his fingers from the violin and the lifeline on his palm and toying with his long thin fingers. He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she whispered, “for me.”

“Was it worth it?” he asked.

She nodded. “I love it.”

“Good,” he said and cradled her closer. “You should thank Utau.”

“Utau helped?”

“She said girls fantasize about the time after sex more than the act itself,” he told Amu quietly.

For a moment, Amu was silent, mulling that over. “Yeah,” she agreed finally. “I guess so.”

They soaked in the warm water for a long time, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s bodies and the closeness they shared. He gathered rose petals into the shape of a heart on the surface of the water and Amu cupped it in her palms. They kissed deeply, passionately, as if making up for lost time. They hardly spoke. They didn’t need to.

Then, Ikuto lifted her from the tub and dried her body gently before wrapping her in a silk robe. He did the same to himself and then carried her back to her bedroom, kissing her all the while. They lay together, whispering and sharing secrets for a little while. Then, they made love again.

Basking in the afterglow, Amu snuggled against Ikuto’s chest. 

“Amu?” he asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think… you would still come to love me if what Death Rebel—what I—did hadn’t happened?”

Amu’s heart skipped a beat, uncertain. She had never really thought about that before. If Ikuto hadn’t raped her, she wasn’t sure she would have come to understand him the way she did now. Now, she shared his suffering and she understood him so completely that it was frightening. But if he hadn’t raped her…

“I think… everything happens for a reason,” she said finally.

Ikuto let out a shuddering breath, but didn’t speak.

“Sometimes, things are more than coincidence…” she murmured.

“But,” he whispered. “I had to hurt you to make you love me and that’s—”

“You always loved me,” Amu whispered. “I just never knew until Death Rebel took you from me. I would have come to love you, no matter what.”

He kissed her softly. “I love you,” he murmured.

“And I love you.”

He squeezed her close, his dark deep eyes gleaming in the candlelit dimness. 

“Ikuto,” she said after a moment.

“Hmm?”

“Stop thinking about it. It’s in the past and… I think everything happens for a reason,” she murmured. “If you hadn’t been forced to work for Easter, I wonder if we would have ever even met.” 

His arms tightened around her, inhaling sharply and she felt his heartbeat grow ragged. The thought of never knowing her… 

She smiled lightly, but a little sadly. “I wonder if your heart ever would have given birth to Yoru. So many things could be different than they are now.” She stroked his bare chest, circling his heart. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”

He hugged her tightly, curling his body around her protectively. “Amu,” he murmured. “Please…” he hesitated, “don’t ever leave me.”

She embraced him in return. “Never,” she breathed. “Never ever.”

He began to kiss her, his lips like a caress, and Amu felt heat rush between her thighs. 

Again, they made love, slowly and sweetly without any of the hurried hormones of teenagers. It wasn’t about sex, it was just about being together. It was about being in love. It was about Amu and about Ikuto. They had both been through rough times and hardships, but now they had each other no matter what came next. Until the world broke apart at the seams, they would have each other. Their love was stronger than even Death Rebel and Easter, stronger than violation and betrayal and pain—nothing and no one would ever come between them—ever!

X X X

(1) Ikuto’s look was inspired by this picture (just remove the spaces): neko-mimi . centerblog . n e t / 12-oo-ikuto-sexy-oo (Not that Ikuto needs any help being sexy, but it was just such a gorgeous picture that I had to share. Check him out!)

(2) I wasn’t sure how many people would know that a “virgin” drink is a drink without alcohol. Like if you made a Screwdriver, which is orange juice and vodka, and held the vodka, it would be a Virgin Screwdriver.

Questions, comments, concerns?

…

Classic important author's note. Please, read!

First, drop a REVIEW and let me know what you think! Think I tormented Ikuto and Amu too much? Are permanently disgusted and can no longer even watch Shugo Chara thanks to me? Loved it? Hated it? Are scarred for life because of the rape? Think there was way too much angst? (Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and weenies!) Think I need to do more editing before I post chapters? Post to slow? Chapters are too short? Too long? Yada, yada, yada…

Second, I own nothing except my original characters: like… no one. But I do own my angsty plot. So there, now I can't be sued!

Third, there will be no sequel… at all, so don't ask!

FOURTH, please, check out my first ORIGINAL NOVEL! The Breaking of Poisonwood by Paradise Avenger. (Summary: People were dead. When Skye Davis bought me at a slave auction as a birthday present for his brother, I had no idea what my new life was going to be like, but I had never expected this. It all started when Venus de Luna was killed and I was to take her place, to become the new savior… Then, bad things happened and some people died. In the heart of the earth, we discovered the ancient being that Frank Davis had found and created and used to his advantage. The Poisonwood—)

Fifth, stay tuned for my next story (Deafening Silence) or go read one of the others I have written!

Finally, thank you for making it this far! All the way to the end! Woot!

And so, I bid you adieu.

FINALLY FINISHED!

So review!


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